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COFffilGHT DEPOSOi 



THE MEMOIRS 

OF THE 



BARONESS CECILE DE COURTOT 

LADY-IN-WAITING TO THE PRINCESS DE LAMBALLE 
PRINCESS OF SAVOY-CARIGNAN 



COMPILED FROM THE LETTERS OF THE BARONESS TO FRAU VON 

ALVENSLEBEN, NjtE BARONESS LOE, AND THE 

DIARY OF THE LATTER 

BY 

HER GREAT-GRANDSON 

MORITZ VON^KAISENBERG 

(MORITZ VON BERG) 



TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 
BY 

JESSIE HAYNES 




NEW YORK 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
1900 



TWO COPIES RZCEIVSD, 

Office ef 13,© 



Beglstep of Gopyrlgjjf jj, 



A 



vC^feirt 



Copyright, 1900, 

BY 

HENRY HOLT & CO. 



SECOND COPY, 



ROBERT DRUMMOND, PRINTER, NEW YORK. 



PREFACE. 

In an attic of my father's house in the neighbourhood of 
Halberstadt there stood, among other out-of-date and disused 
furniture, an ancient carved oak chest. It had belonged to my 
mother's grandmother, and on its lid was carved the name: 

Sophie Hedwig von Alvenslehen, 

verwittwete [widowed'} von Billow-Gross-Schwechten, geb. \_nee] 

von Rauchhaupt auf Hohenthurm u. Landin. 

i6g2. 

That was the mother of my great-grandfather; the oak 
chest might therefore well command our veneration as a family 
heirloom. 

On the rare occasions when we children were permitted a 
peep into this chest, there was no end to our wonder and de- 
light; for the spirit of a strange and by-gone world seemed to 
breathe from it and the marvellous things that lay therein. It 
was a very reliquary in our childish eyes. 

Then very carefully with those dear slender hands of hers 
our mother would lift the things out one by one — curiously 
fashioned gowns trimmed with real old point, dainty little 
ivory fans, potpourri boxes and reticules, embroidered Pom- 
padour bags with their varied store of tiny scissors, tabatieres 



iv PREFACE. 

for Spanish snuff and the like. Besides all this there were 
ladies' poetry albums, illuminated prayer-books, costumes 
and fashion plates — in short, the chest was a treasure-house of 
bewildering delights, each of its fair owners, as it was handed 
down from one generation to the other, having stored away 
in it what seemed of special value in her eyes. 

On the death of my beloved mother, this treasure passed 
into my hands. It was a frequent and never-failing delight to 
me to turn over its contents, and one day, quite at the bottom, 
under a quantity of old documents, I chanced upon a thick 
packet of letters tied together with a blue ribbon and having on 
the outside wrapper the inscription : 

Cecile's letters. 1801 and 1802. 

There were seventeen in all, some of them many pages 
long, written in French on stout — according to our present 
ideas coarse — paper, dropping to decay, torn in parts, and the 
writing half obliterated with age. 

I began to decipher them and discovered that they were 
letters from the Baroness Cecile de Courtot, one time dame 
d'atour to the Princess de Lamballe, to my great-grand- 
mother, Frau Anna Gottliebe Luise Wilhelmine von Alvens- 
leben, nee Freiin von Loe of Overdiek. 

But this was not my only treasure trove. Besides many 
other letters dating from the beginning of the century, I found 
a red velvet book bearing on its cover the inscription " My 
Album." In this book, my great-grandmother, following the 
fashion of her day, had made a varied collection of things that 
had struck her fancy. Here I found somewhat overladen 
effusions of the poets of the time, her impressions on this or 



PREFACE. V 

the other subject, and accounts of the various important days 
of her Hfe. By degrees the contents of the book assumed the 
character of a " diary," as we should call it now-a days, though 
in reality it is more than that, for it includes conversations and 
descriptions of persons interesting to her, records important 
events that happened to them, and a multitude of other at- 
tractive matter not connected with herself. 

What makes the book of special value in my eyes, how- 
ever, is that it supplements the above-mentioned letters and 
helps one to thoroughly understand many of the occurrences 
of those days. Added to which, its pages reveal the deep feel- 
ing and noble character of my great-grandmother, a woman 
who for culture, charm, and lovable disposition ranked high 
in the opinion of her contemporaries and whose memory is 
still green in the family at the present day. 

This diary is also written in French, which may be ex- 
plained by the fact of my great-grandmother having been 
brought up in a French convent in Holland; besides that, in 
those days, it was the language of social intercourse in the 
upper classes. 

Thus, from the following translation of the diary and the 
letters, I have endeavoured to construct a faithful picture of 
those times and the persons mentioned. 

The Baroness Cecile de Courtot lived for eight years in 
the house of my great-grandparents at Kalbe on the Milde. 
She had been an eye-witness of the French Revolution, a 
sorely tried victim in the days of the Terror, and her position 
and rank brought her in contact with the Emperor Napoleon 
I. and many famous personages of that period. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE HOME OF MY GREAT-GRANDPARENTS. 

PACK 

History of the Family of von Alvensleben. Werner IV. von Alvens- 
leben. First War of the CoaUtion against France. Overdiek Castle. 
Werner makes the acquaintance of Anna Gottliebe von Loe and loves 
her. He is wounded before Verdun. Is nursed at Overdiek. Werner 
leaves the army and marries Annaliebe von Loe. Their home at Kalbe. ... I 

CHAPTER II. 

THE EARLY MARRIED LIFE OF THE VON ALVENSLEBENS. 

Annaliebe' s Diary. Frau von Bismarck- Schonhausen. Old Herr von 
Briest. The Poet Gleim. The Pastors and their families. The War. 
Arrival of a letter from Major von Rauchhaupt in Roermonde in which he 
begs the young couple to receive an emigree, the Baroness de Courtot. 
They decide to do so 7 

CHAPTER III. 

CECILE'S ARRIVAL. 

Journey of the Alvenslebens to Magdeburg and Cecile's reception in 
Kalbe. Remarks in Annaliebe' s Diary on the appearance and character 
of the Baroness. Her severe illness. Annaliebe' s devotion to her and 
her gradual recovery 19 

CHAPTER IV. 

CECILE. 

Extracts from Annaliebe' s Diary concerning Cecile's state of mind. 
Birth of a daughter to the Alvenslebens. The young mother nursed in 
her turn by Cecile. The christening. Gleim' s visit to Kalbe. Annaliebe 

vii 



Vlii CONTENTS. 

?AGB 

expatiates on the joys of motherhood. Cecile msists on paying board. 
She wishes to sell her jewels. The War. Letter from Colonel von 
Rauchhaupt announcing his approaching visit. His arrival. He pro- 
poses to Cecile, but is rejected. Cecile's renewed melancholy 26 

CHAPTER V. 

cecile's story. 

Her home and her parents. Her playfellow, Hector de Trellissac. 
Her appointment as Lady-in-waiting to the Princess de Lamballe. 
Previous history of Princess. Philippe of Orleans. The Castle of Gen6vais. 
Original letter from Marie Antoinette to the Princess begging her to return 
to the Court, Arrival of the Princess and Cecile in Paris. The Queen. 
The Court. Letter written by the Arch- Duchess Marie Antoinette to the 
Dauphin on their betrothal. The Queen's fondness for fashion. Her 
friends. The Revolution. Riotous scenes in Versaillas. Heroic conduct 
of the Queen. The Court transferred to Paris. Cecile meets the Vicomte 
Hector de Trellissac again as a Lieutenant in the Queen's Dragoons at the 
Tuileries. Their dawning love. Their betrothal 43 

CHAPTER VI. 

CECILE'S STORY. 

Further advance of the Revolution. The Princess de Lamballe, 
accompanied by Cecile, goes to London on behalf of the Queen to beg for 
help from the Government. Fruitless efforts. Letter from Marie Antoinette 
to the Princess. Forged command to return. The journey back and 
arrival in Paris. Cecile manages to save her valuables. Description of 
the horrors in Paris. Death of Cecile's mother. The Princess and Cecile 
take refuge in the Temple where the Royal Family are imprisoned. Sur- 
prise of the Queen at their return. The Princess is transferred to the 
prison of La Force, and Cecile to the Abbaye St. Germain. The decapitated 
head of the Princess de Lamballe is carried past the Queen's windows in 
Cecile's presence. Account of the Princess' trial, her acquittal, and sub- 
sequent murder. , . , 62 

CHAPTER Vn. 

cecile's story. 

Account of her imprisonment in the Temple. Her illness. She is 
brought before the tribunal and condemned to death. On the way to the 
guillotine she is liberated through a bold device of her lover. Hector 



CONTENTS. ix 

FACE 

is killed, but Cecile is conveyed to a place of safety by the Chevalier 
Tancred d'Aubignac. Her flight from Paris and arrival in Roermonde. 
Conclusion of Cecile's narrative 75 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE YEARS 1 795 AND 1 796. 

Werner's first Letter from Berlin. Account of the journey. Life in 
Berlin. The Court of Frederick William II. Sale of Cecile's jewels to the 
Court jeweller. The Countess Lichtenau. The Marquise de Navaillac. 
Werner's second letter. Life at Court. Laxity of morals. The Coimtess 
Donhoff. Countess Lichtenau' s power. The Crown-Princess Luise. 
Description of an assembly at the Queen's. Details concerning various 
persons mentioned in the letters. Celebration of Annaliebe's birthday. 
The Lamballe screen , 90 

CHAPTER IX. 

cecile's account of the scandal of the queen's necklace. 

Cardinal Rohan. The adventuress Lamotte-Valois. The intrigue 
with the necklace in the Park of Versailles. The courtesan Oliva per- 
sonates Marie Antoinette. The trial. Two letters from the Queen to 
her sister the Princess Marie Christine of Sachsen-Teschen on the subject 
of the necklace. Conclusion of the account. Letter to Cecile from the 
Duchess Edm^e de Brancas in Paris 105 

CHAPTER X. 

the years 1797 AND 1 798. 

Annaliebe and Cecile go to Helgoland accompanied by Herr von 
Briest. Return to Kalbe. Second letter from the Duchess. The state of 
affairs in Paris. The i8th Fructidor. Barras. General Bonaparte. Festi- 
val at the Luxembourg in Bonaparte's Honour. Madame de Beauharnais. 
Anecdotes of Bonaparte in Brienne. Bonaparte's order of the day to the 
Army of Italy. Modes 121 

CHAPTER XI. 

events of the years 1798 AND 180O. 

The Alvenslebens take the Baroness to Berlin. Adjutant- General von 
Kockeritz. The King's birthday. Twenty Alvenslebens present. Account 
in Annaliebe's Diary of the doings in Berlin. Birthday audience at Court. 
Cecile and Annaliebe presented. Addressed by Queen Luise. Cercle, 



K CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Seven Mesdames von Alvensleben. Princess Radzivill. Baron d'Orville. 
Small soiree in the Palace. The sweet and charming Queen. Wilhelra 
von Humboldt. Count Arnim. Philipp Alvensleben gives an Alvensleben 
dinner. Letter from the Duchess Edmee describing Talleyrand. Cecile 
remarks upon the resemblance between the French and Prussian Royalties. 
Phillinchen's tutor Vultejus. Letter from Cecile' s cousin in Brussels. 
Cecile' s letter to the Duchess begging her for advice as to the best means 
of obtaining the restitution of her family estates 12S 



CHAPTER XIL 

THE YEAR 180O AND BEGINNING OF 180I. 

Some account of affairs in France. Bonaparte's return from Egypt. 
His arrival in Paris. The l8th Brumaire. The new Directorate, Bona- 
parte named First Consul. The 3d Vendgmiaire. Decrees of the Consul. 
Victories over Austria. Marengo. Third letter from the Duchess to 
Cecile. Bonaparte. His Court. His endeavours to attract the old 
nobility. Barras in Pierrefitte. Edmee' s proposal that Cecile should come 
to Paris. Annaliebe's giief at the thought of losing Cecile. Cecile's 
resolve to return to Paris. Her departure from Kalbe 138 

CHAPTER XHL 

cecile's first letter to annaliebe. 

Her journey to Cassel by Halberstadt. Frau von Spiegel. Frau von 
Brankoni, Arrival in Cassel. Description of the festivities attendant on 
the marriage of the Princess of Hesse. Annaliebe's Diary. Her grief at 
Cecile's absence. The Temple of Friendship 149 

CHAPTER XIV. 

cecile's second letter. 

Journey to Strasburg. Short stay in Mainz. Arrival in Strasburg. 
Description of the town. The Minster. The telegraph to Paris. New 
Year according to the new regulations 158 

CHAPTER XV. 

cecile's third letter. 

The journey continued. Zabern, the Castle of the Rohan-Gueme- 
nees. Table-d'hote at Chalons. Conversation between the French Lieute- 
nants about Bonaparte. Observations on Napoleon's family 163 



CONTENTS. xi 

CHAPTER XVI. 

cecile's fourth letter. 

PAGE 

Arrival in Paris. The Duchess is away from home. Cecile takes 
rooms in the Hotel Grange- Bateillere. Account of the prices and of life in 
general in Paris. Visit to the Theatre Feydeau 172 



CHAPTER XVII. 

cecile's fifth letter. 

Cecile returns to the Palais Brancas. Her rooms here. Napoleon's 
portrait by Greuze. The Duchess Edmee's joy at meeting her friend 
once more. They drive about Paris. The Place de la Concorde, Place 
Royale, etc. Robespierre's body placed in the coffin of Louis XVI. Cecile's 
visits to her old nurse. Pere la Chaise cemetery. The grave of Cecile's 
Mother. Warrant for the execution of Robespierre 177 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

cecile's sixth letter. 

Visit to the prisons of La Force and the Temple. The spot where 
Cecile's rescue took place. The Bastille. She meets other returned 
emigrees and old friends. Annaliebe's Diary : Christmas Eve at Kalbe. 
Sophie von Liideritz 186 

CHAPTER XIX. 

cecile's seventh letter. 

Visit to the Marquise de Montesson. The other guests. The Ambas- 
sador Luchesini. The Prince de Poix. The Legitimists and their position 
towards the First Consul. The Prince de Poix's anecdotes of the First 
Consul. Madame Tallien. Madame de Talleyrand. Madame de Stael. 
The Italian Opera. La Molinera. Attempt on the life of the First Consul. 
Fashion. Skit on the Incroyables. Remarks by the editor on several 
foregoing personages 190 

CHAPTER XX. 

cecile's eighth letter. 

Bonaparte holds a parade in front of the Tuileries. Corso at Long- 
champs. Fashions. Gentlemen' s hats , 199 



xii CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

cecile's ninth letter. 



pAGa 



Visit to Talleyrand. Description of the Minister. Caricatures of him. 
Talleyrand mentions the name of Trellissac. Cecile's surprise. Talley- 
rand's remarks on Napoleon and Josephine. Madame Grant 203 

CHAPTER XXn. 

cecile's tenth letter. 

Her audience with Josephine has to be put off on account of an 
accident to the latter lady. Cecile's costume for the audience. Napoleon's 
portrait by David. The Carnival. Germans in Paris. French literature. 
Garherius and his balloon 213 

CHAPTER XXni. 

cecile's eleventh letter. 

Audience at Malmaison. Description of the Park and the Castle. 
Meeting with a cavalcade consisting of Hortense Beauharnais, Caroline 
Bonaparte, Murat, the Prince de Poix. The Marquis de Coulaincourt. 
Madame de Campan, Madame Hamelin, Madame Junot, Madame Tallien, 
Adele Talhuet. Cecile's reception by Madame Josephine. Her beauty 
and charm. Madame Hamelin relates an anecdote of Napoleon in Italy. 
Adele Talhuet tells Cecile her story. Remarks on Malmaison 221 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

cecile's twelfth letter. 

Dejeuner at Madame Josephine's. Hortense Beauharnais, Caroline 
Murat, General Murat. Observations on Hortense' s marriage with Louis 
Bonaparte. Murat' s affectations, his dress, etc. Josephine's walk with Cecile 
in the Park at Malmaison. Napoleon's bells. His fatalism. Lucian 
Bonaparte. Private theatricals in which Eugene Beauharnais and Hortense 
take part. Madame Josephine promises to recommend Cecile's petition to 
Napoleon. Napoleon' s brothers and sisters 235 

CHAPTER XXV. 

cecile's thirteenth letter. 

Her change of view regarding the First Consul. The Concordat. 
Balls in Paris. Dancing. The Prince de Poix. The Theatre Royal 



CONTENTS. Xiii 

PAGE 

Iphigenia in Tauris. Talma as Orestes, Cecile's nervousness about the 
audience. Frascati' s. ' ' Delphine ' ' by Madame de Stael. Luxury in 
dress displayed by the ladies of Paris 245 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

cecile's fourteenth letter. 

Cecile receives the command to the audience. The Tuileries. The 
Antechamber. The Ministers Talleyrand, Berthier, Regnier. Monsieur 
Dejean, Marcel. Adjutant-General Duroc. The audience. Description 
of Napoleon. Cecile offers her petition. She recognises in Bonaparte a 
schoolboy at Brienne who once saved her life. Cecile relates two stories 
to the Consul. Napoleon recognises Cecile. Familiar conversation between 
them on Napoleon's past and his belief in his star. Cecile's return to her 
friend. Their conversation on the strange events of the day. The fortunes 
told to Josephine and Napoleon. Napoleon's belief in Kismet. .'. 252 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

cecile's fifteenth letter. 

Her change of fortune. Invitations to many receptions. The theatre. 
The dancer Gardel and the ballet, "La chasse du jeune Henri." The 
Pantheon. Tombs of Voltaire and Rousseau. The English in Paris. Ex- 
hibition of natural products in the Louvre. Mademoiselle Duchenois as 
Phedre at the Theatre Fran5ais. Fouche. The Prince de Poix's highly 
spiced stories. Fashions in gentlemen's hats. Excessive rouging of the 
ladies 266 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

cecile's sixteenth letter. 

Her journey into the Vendee, where her estates are situated. Account 
of the Chouans and their struggles. The castles of Mont Courtot and Re- 
trazet. The unfaithful bailiff. Cecile visits the scenes of her youth. She 
returns to Paris. Second audience with the Consul. Received at St. Cloud 
by Madame Josephine. Marie Antoinette's furniture in the drawing-room. 
Napoleon speaks again of his former life. Cecile has to tell of her adven- 
tures and her rescue from death by Hector de Trellissac. The ceremony of 
the re-establishment of the Church at Notre-Dame. Cecile present by 
invitation as guest of the First Consul 270 



xiv CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXIX, 

cecile's seventeenth letter, the last of the collection. 

PAGB 

Return ol the troops from Egypt. Their reception by the First Consul. 
Assemblee at the Marquise de Noailles's. The "parlour game' of 
mystification. Cecile joins in the game. Unexpected appearance of a one- 
eyed officer in the uniform of the Chassntrs d'A/rique. She recognises her 
lover. Overwhelming joy of the pair. Trellissac relates his experiences 
after his well-nigh fatal wound and his subsequent fighting in Egypt. 
Cecile's plans for the future. Annaliebe's Diary: Reflections on her friend's 
amazing experiences. Birth of a son to the Alvenslebens. They are thus 
unable to be present at Cecile' s marriage with the Vicomte de Trellissac in 
Paris. On the 9th of June, 1803, Annaliebe receives the sad news 01 
Cecile's death two days after giving birth to a daughter 279 



BARONESS CECILE DE COURTOT. 

CHAPTER I. 
THE HOME OF MY GREAT-GRANDPARENTS. 

The Castle of Kalbe on the Milde in Altmark is a very 
ancient possession of the von Alvensleben family. In 1324, the 
Margrave Ludwig of Brandenburg bought it of the von 
Kroechers and made it the ancestral seat of the so-called 
" black line " of the great Alvensleben clan, already possessed 
of extensive property in the Altmark and the Mark Branden- 
burg. 

None of the family archives go further back than 1400; any 
records before then belong to legendary history. Thus tradi- 
tion says that the first Count Alvensleben was a descendant 
of that Alvoni who in 779 embraced Christianity. The strong- 
hold of " Alvonslowe " must have stood where the village of 
Alvensleben now lies, and thus the family of that name is one 
of ^e oldest in the district. 

They had, from time immemorial, been great landed pro- 
prietors, and even the father of my great-grandfather — Werner 
III. — owned, besides the family seat of Kalbe, the domains of 
Klotze, Isenschnibbe, Dember, and several others. 



2 THE HOME OF MY GREAT-GRANDPARENTS. 

He divided his estates among his four sons, and the so- 
called " Grosses Vorwerk " — the Great Manor House — at 
Kalbe fell to the share of my great-grandfather, Werner IV., 
who was born in 1752 and served as an officer in Kracht's regi- 
ment of infantry. 

On the outbreak of the French Revolution, Austria, 
alarmed for the safety of the royal house so closely related 
to her own, declared war on the lawless insurgents in Paris, 
1792. 

Prussia was at that time in high favour with France, and the 
memory of the Great Frederick, in spite of the defeat at 
Rosbach, — probably on account of the king's infatuation for 
everything French, — was greatly revered in Paris. Again, the 
French regarded Prussia as their natural ally in the main- 
tenance of the balance of power in Europe; indeed negotia- 
tions for an alliance were actually entered upon between the 
leaders of the revolutionary party and the Prussian govern- 
ment, based no doubt upon the supposition that a constant 
rivalry must exist between the successors of Maria Theresa 
and those of Frederick the Great for the overlordship of Ger- 
many. 

Nothing, however, was further from the intentions of Fred- 
erick William H. than to range himself on the side of the 
revolutionaries, seeing that he regarded even a constitutional 
government as a danger to the monarchy. Accordingly he 
rejected the French overtures with scorn, joined the Coalition 
and declared war against France on February 7, 1792. 

Austria set about her war preparations in her usual dilatory 
manner, and it was June before some 50,000 Austrian troops 
were massed on the Middle Rhine, while a Prussian army 
corps marched upon Cologne and Coblenz in three columns. 



MEETING OF ANNALIEBE AND WERNER. 3 

To the first — the most northerly — of these three columns be- 
longed Kracht's infantry regiment in which my great-grand- 
father, Lieutenant-Captain von Alvensleben, was serving. The 
route of this column lay through Westphalia and the Mark 
districts. Here, in the neighbourhood of Dortmund, lay Over- 
diek, the old estate of the family von Loe, where my great- 
grandfather was presently quartered and so made the ac- 
quaintance of Anna Gottliebe, the only child of the Freiherr 
Johann Moritz von Loe, and won her young affections. 

The girl, then in her twenty-first year and the last of this 
line of the great house of Loe, was a Roman Catholic and had 
been brought up and educated, after the fashion of her day, in 
a French convent in Holland. On the death of her mother she 
returned to Overdiek, and had scarcely been outside her native 
place since then. She was the idol of her old father, whose 
only regret was that she was not a boy and the estate must 
therefore go at his death to the Rhenish line of the Loes. 

And now young Anna Gottliebe — or Annaliebe, as she was 
generally called — gave her heart to Werner despite his twenty 
years of seniority, and the lovers hoped in time to obtain the 
old father's consent to their union notwithstanding their dif- 
ference of faith. When the regiment resumed its march, they 
parted with mutual assurances of undying love and vows that 
nothing in this world should finally separate them. 

And yet it very nearly came to that, for Werner von Al- 
vensleben received a severe bullet-wound in the chest during a 
skirmish of the advance guard at the siege of Verdun. He 
was brought with a sick-transport to Cologne, whence, at his 
daughter's urgent entreaty, old Baron Loe had him transferred 
to Overdiek. 

Annaliebe's nursing did wonders, and the invalid soon re- 



4 THE HOME OF MY GREAT-GRANDPARENTS. 

covered sufficiently — not for military service, but to be able to 
enter into possession of the estate at Kalbe, the death of his 
father having occurred meanwhile. The old Baron must have 
had opportunities during these days of Werner's illness to con- 
vince himself of his worth as well as of the sincere attachment 
between the two lovers, for he gave them his blessing and 
promised them a speedy union. 

Meanwhile, the inglorious campaign against France came 
to an end ; the Prussian troops returned home without effect- 
ing any of the objects for which they had been called out, and 
were put once more on a peace footing; and Werner von 
Alvensleben obtained his discharge with the rank of Captain. 

A heavy cloud seemed to weigh upon Prussia in those 
days. The military renown of the Great Frederick's army was 
utterly annihilated by the dilatory, vacillating generalship of 
the Duke of Brunswick. With his undisciplined rabble Gen- 
eral Dumouriez had defeated the veterans of the great king — 
reckoned hitherto invincible — and had driven them back upon 
the Rhine through the passes of Grandpre. " See," whispered 
many a man then to his neighbour, "the Marseillaise has beaten 
Prussian strategy; it would seem that the republic is, after all, 
the best form of government." Murmurs such as these might 
have been heard even in Berlin, and a great wave came surging 
across the Rhine only to break at last against the old Prussian 
provinces — Brandenburg, Altmark, Pommern — that stood by 
the Monarchy firm as a rochcr de hronse. 

All through that winter Werner von Alvensleben devoted 
himself energetically to the duties of his estate. He soon re- 
covered completely from his wound and was very busy adorn- 
ing the nest for his Annaliebe, whom he looked forward to 
bringing home in the early sprmg. 



THE HOME AT KALBE. 5 

Suddenly, in January 1793, came the news of Baron Loe's 
serious illness. Werner instantly set out for Overdiek, but ar- 
rived only just in time to close the old father's eyes, whose last 
loving glances had been for his two children. 

The Overdiek estate passed to the Rhenish cousins, while 
Annaliebe received the not inconsiderable unentailed property. 
Accompanied by an old aunt, a Fraulein von Liining, she then 
left her home and went to Kloster Roda. Here she was in- 
structed in the doctrine of the Protestant Church, was received 
into that communion, and on June 24th laid her hand, for 
better for worse, in that of her beloved Werner. 

From my grandmother's descriptions and even my 
mother's, who had seen it as a child, the Great Manor House 
in Kalbe was a rambling and spacious abode of one storey 
only, built high and dry over the cellars, and in parts still 
thatched with straw. But there was all the more room in it, 
and the pleasant attic guest-chambers under its high-pitched 
roof were in great request among the numerous relatives of 
the family. 

High thinking and gentle manners had ever been the rule 
in the dear old house, but the style of living was of the plainest. 
The long wars under Frederick the Great had drained the 
pecuniary resources of the country, and life on one of these 
baronial estates differed, in those days, in hardly any respect 
from that of the plain burgher households. 

There was no question of a great retinue of servants ; an 
old coachman, Johann, who had been twenty-five years in the 
family, and a few maids formed the entire establishment, and 
the scale of living was proportionately simple. 

And yet how charming and homelike the old house must 
have been with its wide hall, the ceiling hung with harvest 



6 THE HOME OF MY GREAT-GRANDPARENTS. 

garlands, and the walls with portraits of the ancestors — some 
of them in knightly armour with great plumes on their steel 
helmets, and the ladies with white veils on their almost in- 
variable golden locks ! 

These ladies, as appeared from their coats of arms on the 
pictures, all belonged to Altmark and Brandenburg families, 
and the same names, Liideritz, Arnim, Kroecher, Schulenburg, 
and so forth, occurred over and over again, so that the whole 
countryside might in truth be said to form one great family. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE EARLY MARRIED LIFE OF THE 
VON ALVENSLEBENS. 

On the 3d of July the young couple made their entry into 
the festively garlanded house, and on the evening of this day 
my great-grandmother makes the first mention of her newly 
wedded life in her diary. Her words convey very happily the 
childlike piety of her temperament and her ardent affection 
for her husband. She writes, as I have said, in French. 

July 3. 1793- 

O dear and beautiful house, from henceforth to be my 
cherished home! My whole heart goes out to thee in greet- 
ing! I cannot let this first evening pass without setting down 
in these pages how great my happiness is. My heart is quite, 
quite full, for God has given me the best, the noblest man in 
all the world for my husband. How I love thee, dear old 
house, with all thy countless nooks and crannies out of which 
I seem to see the little kindly brownies peep who have worked 
so blithely for the long Hne of my dear Werner's forefathers. 
Oh, receive me too, the stranger, as a familiar friend! I will 
be a good housewife to you and strive to follow worthily in the 
footsteps of those who have gone before me. 

But to Thee, my great and heavenly Father, I pray — take 

7 



8 EARLY MARRIED LIFE OF THE VON ALVENSLEBENS. 

not my Werner from me. Never would another moment's 
happiness be mine were I to lose him. Let Thy blessing be 
upon me, O my God, that I may live to repay my Werner for 
all his love to me. 

Anna Gottliebe. 

And thus my great-grandparents began their married life 
so full of tender affection and unity of soul. The first few 
weeks they lived to each other alone and the dear delights of 
their new companionship, but presently they were obliged to 
bethink them of their social obligations to the immense circle 
of relatives. First upon the list stood old Uncle von Briest 
and the Liideritz family, then the Borstels, the Kroechers, the 
Bismarcks, and a host of others, and it was weeks before the 
newly wedded couple finished their round of visits. The diary 
contains the whole list, and such a tour can have been no slight 
strain upon the young wife, for under the last name — that of 
old Aunt von Kroecher — she writes: "Thank Heaven, it is 
over ! " Truly — 

" Go East, go West, 
At home is best." 

This light-hearted and yet so practical great-grandmother 
of mine must have been a very bewitching Httle lady. The 
pastel portrait we possess gives but an inadequate idea of her. 
At any rate, my dear mother always declared that the picture 
in no way did justice to her beauty. Her eyes, in particular, 
which were intensely blue though they could, at times, look 
almost black, must have been wonderfully beautiful with her 
red-gold hair. The poet Gleim, who was an intimate friend of 
the house, frequently came over from Halberstadt and stayed 



ANNALIEBE'S DIARY. 9 

for days at a time, and was an enthusiastic admirer of the fair 
chatelaine. 

The turmoil and bustle of the return visits once over, the 
enormous circle of acquaintances narrowed down to a com- 
paratively small number of families in the immediate neigh- 
bourhood, on whom Annaliebe bestowed her more intimate 
friendship. 

Those were still the " good " old days — the days of blithe 
and simple home life, of the cultivation of an exaggerated sen- 
timentality and perfervid romance, such as is hardly con- 
ceivable in the present day. 

At that time there were two persons — ^besides her Werner — 
for whom my great-grandmother had formed an enthusiastic 
attachment, namely, dear old Uncle Briest, who lived near by 
at Schmetzdorf and was a frequent visitor at the Manor 
House, and secondly, Frau von Bismarck-Schonhausen, nee 
von Miltitz. This great-aunt of the mighty Chancellor was 
already an old lady in those days, but that she could, never- 
theless, inspire Annaliebe's young heart with fervent admira- 
tion is amply proved by the following entry in the diary : 

August 24, 1793. 

Oh, what exquisite delight has been mine to-day! Frau 
von Bismarck was here! Would that I could oftener enjoy 
the company of this high-souled, generous-hearted woman! 
I was in the seventh heaven. How marvellous is her un- 
assailable tranquillity of spirit I I listened in wonder and 
emotion to the heart-stirring words that fell from her lips. It 
is my dearest wish to follow in her steps and become like her. 
Shall I tell her some day how ardently I admire and love her? 
I think I shall venture. Alas, that her home is so far from heie 
and so difficult of access ! I wish I could see her every day. 



10 EARLY MARRIED LIFE OF THE VON ALVENSLEBENS. 

Besides those already mentioned, two pastors' families in 
the near neighbourhood were included in the circle of my great- 
grandparents' intimates — that of Deacon Miiller of Kalbe and 
dear old Pastor Nertz with his little roly-poly wife who be- 
longed to the neighbouring Biihne. They saw a great deal of 
each other, and Annaliebe often consulted the Frau Pas- 
torinnen in any little housekeeping difficulty that turned up. 

Thus, the diary tells us, on a certain afternoon in the mid- 
dle of August my great-grandparents and the two families 
already mentioned were assembled round the cofifee-table in 
the Manor House garden. How often have I not heard de- 
scriptions of that coffee-table from my mother and my grand- 
mother, who both remembered it well! In the middle of the 
big garden table stood the tall coffee-pot under an embroi- 
dered cosy and encircled by dainty little cups and a crystal 
sugar-bowl. Beside it on a tray was black country bread, 
fresh butter, and golden honeycomb — cakes and the like were 
reserved for highdays and holidays. The gentlemen were 
smoking long pipes; the great tobacco-box filled with Dutch 
canaster stood on the table, and beside it a very simple con- 
trivance — two little bottles filled respectively with phosphorus 
and sulphur and a bundle of small match-sticks — for lighting 
the pipes. 

A newspaper, too, lay upon the table, a diminutive copy of 
the "Berliner Neueste Nachrichten," which appeared only once 
a week. Postage rates v/ere very high in those days — the 
smallest letter cost four new groschen — the progress of the 
mails was extremely slow and their delivery subject to all sorts 
of unforeseen accidents. It had become a settled thing that on 
the day this newspaper and the Aschafifenburg News, taken 
by the Deacon, arrived the two pastors' families should fore- 



THE WAR. II 

g-ather at the Manor House for coffee. The gentlemen would 
study the " Political and Literary News," while the ladies dis- 
cussed domestic questions, casting, maybe, a cursory glance 
over the advertisements. 

To-day's paper had brought the latest tidings of the army 
in Holland,- affording special interest to the gentlemen. For 
Prussia had joined the second Coalition against France, in 
which England was also a party. The combined forces of the 
Allies amounted to nearly two hundred thousand men, and 
stretched along the frontier from Lille to Basle. But it was 
ever the old story — there wan no real organiser, each com- 
mander did what seemed good in his own eyes, and anything 
approaching to unity of action was simply non-existent. 

According to the Berlin newspaper, however, the latest 
accounts were altogether satisfactory. The Austro-Prussian 
Army, under the youthful Archduke Charles, had defeated 
General Dumouriez on the Roer, and the Prussian com- 
mander, the Duke of Brunswick-Pels, had afterwards taken 
the fortified towns of Roermonde and St. Michel. The two 
Generals now stood almost on the rear of the French. 

These tidings were naturally very gratifying, but the de- 
scriptions of the terrible doings in Paris filled the three men 
with horror. It was too much for the ladies. They rose, 
declaring, as my great-grandmother records, that they would 
hear no more of these revolting brutalities, so with arms in- 
terlaced they proceeded to wander through the narrow box- 
bordered paths of the garden. 

Oh that garden! I could paint it down to the smallest de- 
tail from my mother's descriptions. Whenever, as children, 
she and her brother and sister came to visit the grandmother 
her first thought was always to get into the garden, which, 



12 EARLY MARRIED LIFE OF THE VON ALVENSLEBENS. 

with its groves of fruit-trees and gooseberry-bushes, its wealth 
of wall-flower and basil, its blaze of carnations and glowing 
red roses, its prim old-fashioned flower-beds and broad grassy 
lawns, seemed to her a very Eldorado. These flowers were 
Frau Annaliebe's special pride and joy, and she bestowed 
much time and care on their cultivation. 

So the three ladies pursued their leisurely way along the 
garden paths, the hostess pointing out the various perfections 
of her apple and pear trees and finally leadnig them to a corner 
of the garden, where an army of bees was busily attending to 
the duties of the hive. 

Suddenly from the highroad came the sound of a horn, and 
the postboy played his finest tune as a signal that he brought 
the long-desired letters and newspapers; whereupon the three 
ladies hastened back to their husbands in the hope that there 
might be something for them. 

Werner was already waving excitedly to his little wife, and 
handed her a letter when she came up. It was from Major 
Vollrath von Rauchhaupt, a cousin of Werner's, and ran as 
follows : 

ROERMONDE, August IS, 1793. 

If I had not so reliable a means of conveyance, my dear 
Cousin, I would not risk writing to you from this distance. 
Also you know me better, I hope, than to imagine that any- 
thing less than a matter of real importance would induce me 
to write a letter at all. Your letters always afiford me the 
greatest pleasure, for they bring me nevv^s of valued friends 
and well-beloved relatives. If only the writing itself had not 
to be done! It is that which causes me so much chagrin. 

But to proceed. First of all, let me say how glad I am that 



MAJOR RAUCHHAUPT'S LETTER. I3 

all is well with you and the dear Frau Cousine. My sister 
assured me that you were happy — that is the chief thing to 
be considered. And now I come to the subject of my letter. 
I have a great favour to ask of you, though more especially at 
the hands of my beloved and respected Cousine, whom the 
matter chiefly concerns. To plunge therefore at once " in 
medias res," as we used to say at school, I am much concerned 
about a young French lady, a refugee here, Baronesse de 
Courtot by name, whom I should greatly like to confide to 
your kind care. She has suffered terrible things. She was 
dame d'atour to the hapless Princesse de Lamballe, and very 
nearly fell a victim herself to the guillotine. When actually on 
her way to the scaffold she was rescued as by a miracle, and 
then fled the country and took refuge here. 

Before going further, I must, I suppose, give you a full 
and circumstantial account of how I came to fall in with the 
lady, for I should indeed be hurt if I were misjudged by you 
and you suspected anything in the nature of a liaison. Pity 
alone inspires my request on behalf of the unfortunate lady. 
Besides, you know me better and will not do me that in- 
justice. 

Well, then, I am quartered with my regiment in the little 
fortified town of Roermonde, which we took about a week 
ago — our first success in this pitiful war. We generally waste 
the precious time that cannot be recalled in mere child-play. 
There never has been any serious purpose in the management 
of this war. I am lodging in the house of a certain Madame 
la Saque, in the Rue de la Harpe, where please address your 
next letter. 

The day before yesterday, this worthy lady came to me 
and implored my assistance, saying that she was in the great- 



14 EARLY MARRIED LIFE OF THE VON ALVENSLEBENS. 

est anxiety about a sick young lady who had taken refuge 
with her the evening before, A Vicomte d'Aubignac had 
come to her and begged for shelter for a lady whom he had 
saved out of the horrible whirlpool of Paris, and the terrible 
thing was that the lady's fiance, a Vicomte de Trellissak, had 
lost his life while contriving her escape. Having confided the 
lady to Madame's care her companion immediately returned 
to France, leaving her sufficient money, however, to continue 
her journey. My landlady begged me to come to her room 
that I might hear the unfortunate lady's story from her own 
lips. She appeared to be not only physically ill but to have 
sustained a severe mental shock, for she simply lay with wide 
and staring eyes moaning incessantly, " Sauvez-moi, saiivez- 
moi! " 

Knowing Madame to be a thoroughly good and honest 
soul, incapable of falsehood, I accompanied her at once. You 
know, my dear Cousin, that I am easily moved, and when I 
saw this lovely and distressful creature gazing up at me with 
her great dark eyes while she cried, " Saiivcz, saiwes-moi — 
take me away — I must get to Germany ! " why, I was touched 
to the heart. I determined to save her if it were anyway pos- 
sible, and then I suddenly thought of you and your peaceful 
home. If you are willing, I can manage to have her conveyed 
to you and so placed in safety. 

Oh, compassion is indeed a precious sentiment and a gift 
from above — of your charity give this poor hapless fugitive a 
shelter! 

There is, I know, often a wide gulf between wishing and 
being able to do a thing, but if it lies in your power to accede 
to my request, then write me without delay. If la chere Cousine 
consents to undertake this Samaritan work, I could arrange 



THEY DECIDE TO RECEIVE THE BARONESS. 1 5 

for the lady to join a sick-transport which leaves here shortly 
and takes its way over Cassel to Magdeburg. But you must 
send me word at once, for I do not think our reign here will 
last long. They say the Sansculottes intend advancing against 
us in great hordes. I have had more than enough of this sort 
of thing — am sick and tired of the whole accursed business. 
To be subordinate to ignoramuses and fools, against whom 
there is no redress but to denounce them fruitlessly to the 
higher powers, is not by any means my idea of service. Write 
soon. I embrace you with all the ardour of my affectionate 
heart. I kiss the hand of the amiable Lady Cousin. 
Always your heartily obliged Friend and Cousin, 
Albrecht Vollrath von Rauchhaupt, 

Major. 

The following entry in the diary records my great-grand- 
mother's impressions as to the reception of the Baroness: 

August 31st. 

The answer to Cousin Vollrath's letter has been de- 
spatched, and so we may expect the poor friendless fugitive 
ere long, for my dear Werner approves of the plan. We must 
hasten now to get everything in readiness for our charge. I 
shall have the two pleasant rooms in the east gable, which were 
Aunt Georgine's for so many years, prepared for her. There 
she will have the beautiful view across the garden to the forest 
and the first friendly greeting of the morning sun as it glances 
through the green vine leaves at the window. There, too, I 
shall hang up my Bibi's cage — the canary Werner gave me 
on my birthday — and he will cheer the poor sufiferer with his 
gay song. 



1 6 EARLY MARRIED LIFE OF THE VON ALVENSLEBENS. 

Oh, what trials has she not encountered already during her 
short life! I visited our good Pastor yesterday and went 
through the newspapers again with him, reading of the hor- 
rors which took place in Paris and more especially those ac- 
counts dealing with the days of the Terror. There lies the 
whole packet now, and I cannot restrain my tears when I re- 
call these ghastly deeds and how they butchered that dear 
Princess. Oh, poor, poor Queen and you too, most unhappy 
friend, who were compelled to stand by and see the murderers 
carry the beautiful blond head past the windows of the Temple 
on a pike! Oh, I shudder even to think of it ! And you, poor 
martyr — I do not know you yet, but in my heart I call you 
friend, for you seem no stranger to me. Will your sweet face 
be as I have pictured it, I wonder? Oh, God, aid me in my 
endeavours to win back this poor sad heart to take pleasure 
once more in Thy beautiful world! Whatever lies in my power 
shall be done. 

Accordingly, the diary shows us the Alvenslebens much 
occupied during the next few days with preparations for re- 
ceiving the Baroness. There were various decorative addi- 
tions to be made in the rooms — a flower-table to be furnished 
with the pick of their plants, friendly pictures to be hung upon 
the walls; the kind-hearted creature even sent over to the 
neighbouring town of Stendal for a dainty little work-table, 
and both husband and wife vied with each other in their fore- 
thought for the comfort of the expected guest. 

Old Uncle Briest seems to have come over now and then 
from his estate near by. He was the last of his ancient race, 
a hardy, jovial old man of sixty and a bosom friend of the 
newly married couple. He must have been a somewhat 



UNCLE BRIEST. - 1 7 

peculiar but extremely kind-hearted man. My great-grand- 
mother never mentions him without adding some term of en- 
dearment. It is " Uncle Heini " here and " our dear old 
Briest " there, and he was always to be depended on for sound 
advice or assistance in any emergency. It would seem that 
their plans for the stranger did not, at first, meet with his ap- 
proval, for the diary says: " To be sure. Uncle Briest considers 
I have been unduly hasty in my decision, for who can tell what 
sort of creature this Frenchwoman may turn out to be, and, 
in any case, a third person is always ' de trop ' in a newly 
married household! You dear old bachelor, what do you 
know about it? Do you know me and my Werner so little as 
to imagine that anything or anybody in this world could come 
between us and our love? " 

Eventually Uncle Briest's kind heart must have got the up- 
per hand, for he sends a beautiful deerskin rug for the room of 
" Madame de la Cour," as he calls her, and is apparently most 
impatient for her arrival. More than this, he actually proposes, 
when the time comes, to fetch the lady from Magdeburg. This 
idea, however, was not to Annaliebe's taste. " I think," she 
writes, "it will be best for us to manage it alone," and adds: 
" Oh, Werner, my beloved, how we will vie with one another 
in our care for this sorely tried stranger — are we not wholly 
one in all our thoughts and feelings ? " 

The next fortnight passed in eager expectation of further 
instruction from cousin Rauchhaupt, but day after day went 
by and no letter came. At last, on the 5th of September, the 
post brought the desired news. Cousin Vollrath writes as 
follows : 



1 8 EARLY MARRIED LIFE OF THE VON ALVENSLEBENS. 

Still in ROERMUNDB, 

August 30, 1793. 

My dear Werner : 

Mademoiselle has just left with a sick-transport* for Cassel, 
accompanied by a nurse engaged by my landlady. The lady 
was ill for some days, and is still terribly weak and exhausted. 
It is to be hoped she will stand the long journey; she posi- 
tivly yearns to be with you. She made me tell her a great deal 
about you. At Cassel she will take the post and should, by 
my reckoning, reach Magdeburg on the 9th or loth of Septem- 
ber, and will put up at the Lamb Inn. Please fetch her from 
there. You will find her a gentle and amiable lady, but des- 
perately low-spirited still. She has won all hearts here. I do 
not suppose we shall be here much longer. When I get back 
I will come and look you up. Meanwhile, my kindest remem- 
brances to my fair Cousine, as also my deeply grateful thanks 
to her for having acceded to my request. 

Ever your faithful cousin, 

V. VON Rauchhaupt. 



CHAPTER III. 
CECILE'S ARRIVAL. 

So the decisive moment had come. The last few days 
before the journey passed quickly, the rooms set apart for the 
guest were once more thoroughly reviewed, and on the 8th of 
September the great family chaise, with its stout gray horses, 
drew up before the door, and the Alvenslebens started for 
Magdeburg, travelling by way of Gardelegen and Stendal. 

After all. Mademoiselle did not arrive till late on the night 
of the nth. The lady must have been much exhausted, for it 
was only after two days of the most complete rest and quiet 
that she could take the road again and push on to Kalbe. In 
the mean time, Annaliebe bought various necessaries for her 
visitor, a brief account of which is among the papers. The 
Baroness had no luggage with her but a small valise, and 
possessed no other clothes but those she stood in, for which 
untoward circumstances my great-grandmother had to take 
thought. 

Nevertheless, these purchases appear to have been some- 
what unwelcome to the lady ; at any rate, she at once refunded 
the sum laid out upon them, and told Frau von Alvensleben 
she had already written to her old nurse, Madame Gervais, in 
Paris, Rue de Riccot, to send her through the banking house 
of Simon in Paris a trunk containing valuables which she, 

19 



20 CECILE'S ARRIVAL. 

the Baroness, had left with Madame Gervais before her 
flight. 

The old nurse, Margarethe, on whom the sick lady had 
come to depend very much, accompanied the party to Kalbe, 
sitting beside old Johann on the box. The travellers reached 
home on the evening of the i6th, having rested one day at 
Stendal for the invalid's benefit. 

Annaliebe's first impressions of her guest are duly recorded 
in the diary. 

September i8, 1793. 

Oh, my timid httle birdie — my poor, poor Cecile ! How I 
thank Heaven now that I decided to receive her. Alas, what 
terrible misery there is in the world ! When I helped the dear 
creature out of the coach at Magdeburg and met those piteous, 
deeply sorrowful eyes that gazed at me half vacantly and yet 
with such a wistful hungering for love, a world of tenderness 
filled my heart for the hapless girl. My arms opened of them- 
selves, I drew her to me and mingled my tears with hers as 
she lay weeping on my bosom. From that moment, she won 
my love, my whole soul went out to her and called her sister, 
and when Cecile — for that is her sweet and musical name — 
whispered in her broken German, " Du Gute, du Liebe, du ! " 
I caught with delight the sound of the dear familiar thoii, and 
at once determined in my newly awakened affection to use the 
same address with her. 

And how quite, quite dififerent she is from what I had pic- 
tured ! I expected, from what I knew of her previous history, 
to find a spoiled grande dame who would have great difficulty 
in accustoming herself to our simple country life; and instead, 
here is a shy and gentle girl, who with her dark eyes and 
beautiful features looks younger than I, although she says she 



MEETING OF CECILE AND ANNALIEBE. 21 

is 30. These dark eyes, with their black eyebrows and lashes, 
form a most peculiarly attractive contrast to her reddish fair 
hair. How bewitching she must have been when those lovely 
eyes could laugh — now they look as if they had long forgotten 
how. Grief has already graven her runic lines on the white 
brow and woven a silver thread or two among the beautiful 
tresses, and the piteous little mouth is ever drawn as if on the 
point of weeping. Her whole appearance is so inexpressibly 
affecting that I can scarce restrain my tears whenever I look 
at her. 

And the gratitude of the sweet soul ! Her eyes are for- 
ever seeking mine, and she cannot bear me to leave her side. 
My Werner is quite jealous of her, and says the stranger is 
drawing me away from him. Oh, you dear, foolish fellow, 
as if anything in the world could draw me away from you! 
However, it is devoutly to be hoped that she will soon be 
quite restored to health. 

Two days later. 

I am half afraid that Cecile is going to be seriously ill ! 
It would not be surprising considering all she has gone 
through in the last few months. The symptoms are bad — 
she sleeps very little and, do what I will, I cannot persuade her 
to eat more than a mouthful now and then. She simply sits 
with her hands in her lap, silent and brooding, gazing into 
the far distance. 

Over and over again in these sunny autumn days I have 
begged her to come down into the garden with me, but in 
vain — she is tired, she says, and cannot be induced to leave 
her low armchair at the window. She broods and broods, 
and the tearless eyes have at times a glassy stare as if they 
saw some dreadful sight. 



22 CECILE'S ARRIVAL. 

I cannot ask our good old friend Dr. Nikolai to come and 
exert his quiet reassuring influence over her, and also to 
examine into her state of health, God restore the poor thing 
soon both in mind and body ! 

October 24th. 

These have been weeks of heavy trouble and anxiety. It 
fell out as I feared, and my poor Cecile has been sick well- 
nigh unto death of brain fever. The first signs of the fever 
showed themselves on the evening of the 25th of last month, 
and by the time the doctor arrived she was delirious, and the 
good old man shook his gray head ominously. He stayed 
with us for three days and shared my watch at Cecile's bed- 
side. What terrible days and nights were those I passed minis- 
tering to the poor sufferer ! Hours full of anxious care, while 
her fever-ridden spirit wrestled with the dread fiends of her 
delirium. What have I not had to listen to! Her mind was 
ever busy with images of death and of the scaffold, and an 
overwhelming terror lay upon her all the time. 

Oh, it was heart-rending to sit there and listen to her rav- 
ings and to be powerless to help her ! Only when I laid my 
cool hand on her burning brow would she sometimes grow a 
little quiet and murmur, " c'est bon, c'est bon." Or she 
would whisper fond words of love : " Oh, my beloved — my 
Hector, is that you beside me ? " Then her great eyes would 
open wide in mad terror and she shrieked : " Hector, Hector, 
do not leave me ! " — and again the low fond murmur : " Dear 
one, they told me you were dead, but there you are at my side 
— it cannot be long now till our marriage . . . But what is that 
— what do I see ! " — and her little hands clutched at her 
loosened hair — " my Princess's beloved face . . . the fair curls 
wave around it . . . and there — there is blood ! . . . Hector — 



CECILE'S ILLNESS. 23 

Hector, you too?" She clenched her hands and started up 
in bed, throwing herself from side to side in such a frenzy 
that I could not hold her alone and had to call the faithful old 
Margarethe to my assistance. 

Thus long, long hours dragged past and brought her no 
sleep, no relief. Scene after scene of the horrid tragedies she 
had witnessed rose up before her out of the cauldron of 
her delirium, and she constantly murmured different names, 
amongst which I think I caught that of the Queen Marie 
Antoinette. 

At last, after many troubled and anxious days, the longed- 
for crisis set in. Her poor tortured spirit flared up once again 
in wildest ravings, then sank away into deep sleep — her only 
chance of life. After a fortnight of overwhelming uncertainty, 
the doctor could give me hope that the worst was over and that 
Cecile might recover. I thanked God with all my heart and 
soul. 

For nearly three days Cecile lay in this deep sleep. The 
fever subsided by degrees, and when, at last, she opened her 
eyes, they wore a totally new expression. The frenzy, the 
delirium had left them. She looked about her at first be- 
wildered in the darkened room into which only a pale streak 
of sunlight entered between the drawn curtains, then her eyes 
fell on me and a tender smile played round her pretty mouth. 
With a whispered " Annaliebe " she tried to stretch a slender 
waxen hand towards me, but it sank feebly back upon the 
bed. Her whole dehcate form seemed but a shadow, the fever 
had so wasted her. So I clasped the little hand in mine and 
bent over the sweet transparent face and kissed her. Filled 
with gratitude to Heaven, our fingers lovingly intertwined, I 



24 CECILE'S ARRIVAL. 

murmured softly : " I thank Thee, O my Father, that Thou 
hast given her back to life and me ! " 

All went well after that. Cecile's appetite improved, her 
strength gradually returned, and to-day she has been allowed 
to leave her bed for an hour. We packed her round with pil- 
lows and carried her to her favourite seat by the window, and 
there she sits now gazing out into the clear autumn sunshine. 

We were able to prepare a pleasant surprise for her, too. 
A week after Cecile fell ill, Werner received information that 
a chest containing valuables, sent by Simon of Paris over Eng- 
land, was awaiting the Baroness Courtot at the banking house 
of Magnus in Magdeburg. Three days ago, Werner went over 
and brought it back with him. 

The doctor had advised me to try and distract our invalid's 
thoughts, so Werner proposed that I should open the chest 
and see if I could find something in it to give her pleasure. 
And sure enough, just under the lid lay two portraits, one of 
an elderly gentleman in the uniform of the French Gardes, 
and the other of a high-bred and beautiful lady, both of whom 
I at once judged from the likeness to be Cecile's parents. 

As soon as my poor pet was settled in her arm.chair at the 
window I asked her to shut her eyes a moment, then I propped 
up the two pictures on the little work-table in front of her, and 
told her to open them again. " Oh, my dear, dear father and 
mother ! " she cried, snatching up the portraits and kissing 
first one and then the other. And then at last, at last — 
the long-deferred tears rushed to her eyes, and she wept long 
and profusely. 

" Thank God for that ! " exclaimed dear old Nikolai, over- 
joyed. " Now all will be well. It is a mercy that we have at 



CfiCILE'S RECOVERY. 2^ 

last got the young lady to this point," and he pressed Cecile's 
little hand tenderly. " Courage, little one — we shall soon put 
colour again into those pale cheeks ! " 

May the good old gentleman's words speedily be ful- 
filled! 



CHAPTER IV. 
CECILE. 

This improvement was steadily maintained, and Cecile 
must presently have quite recovered, for towards Christmas 
my great-grandmother's diary contains brief notices as to 
preparations for that festival shared by the two ladies, also a 
list of her presents to Cecile and to her husband. 

Then came the New Year of 1794. The spring and sum- 
mer passed, and on June 24th we find the following entry in 
Annaliebe's diary: 

Thank God my Cecile has now quite recovered, for which 
I am more especially glad, as my present condition demands 
much care. My beloved Werner, in his fond anxiety for me, 
wished at last to engage a paid nurse for Cecile, but happily 
there is no further need for that. Bodily Cecile is indeed much 
better. I only wish I could say the same of her spirits. It 
is true, she is less depressed and takes a little more interest in 
the small events of our daily life, so that I trust her poor, 
sorely wounded heart is beginning to heal. Still there is one 
thing I cannot but think injurious to her — she persists in 
hiding away her grief deep out of sight. If she would only once 
open her heart freely to me, she would surely find relief. But 
no — never a word of the past. How gladly would I help her 
to bear the sorrows of those years; but she shrinks like a sen- 

26 



CECILE'S STATE OF MIND. 27 

sitive plant at the slightest allusion to them, and the dreadful 
fixed look of horror comes into her eyes that frightened me 
so much at first. I know that she frets in secret, and that is 
always the worst form of heartsickness. 

To give one instance among many. We are enjoying a 
perfectly marvellous summer this year — every day a blaze of 
sunshine — and if it rains at all, then only in the night. On one 
such dewy fresh morning lately Werner and I were taking a 
walk in our beautiful beechwood — I have been ordered much 
exercise in the fresh air at present — when we suddenly caught 
sight of Cecile in one of the side paths. She was unaware of 
our presence, and was pacing slowly along with drooping 
head, apparently absorbed in her sad thoughts. Presently she 
stopped, covered her face with her hands, and great tears 
trickled between her fingers. 

Can the wings of her spirit be hopelessly broken? And yet 
all life lies before her. No; she must not be permitted to en- 
close herself hermetically in the web of her sorrow. In her 
youth she winged her flight bravely into life — she must find 
her way back to it again. 

I hastened to her side, and caught the words of yearning 
sorrow I had so often heard from her lips : " Oh Hector, my 
one and only love, why did you leave me behind alone!" 
Then I took her fondly in my arms and implored her to 
lighten the burden of her grief by opening her heart to me. 
But she only shook her head mournfully. " Give me time, 
Annaliebe; I cannot bear yet to speak of my troubles. It 
would only do me harm. Give me time — I shall come round." 

And so I shall leave the dear soul in peace; the right mo- 
ment will come all in good time. 

In the last few days her spirits seem to have improved 



28 CECILE. 

somewhat. Yesterday, for instance, I found her searching in 
her trunk, which hitherto she has only eyed nervously. Pres- 
ently she found a picture which she took out and kissed fondly. 
I am very glad, for if she once finds the courage to occupy 
herself with the things that recall the past to her, she will soon 
be able to give utterance to her grief. 

I myself feel far from well just now. Was the nursing of 
Cecile too much for me, or the whole episode perhaps too ex- 
citing? The doctor admonishes me to take the greatest care 
of myself, and so it is perhaps just as well that Cecile should 
not confide her harrowing story to me for the present. I might 
take it too greatly to heart, though for her sake I would gladly 
risk it. Oh Heavenly Father, take me under Thy protecting 
care, more especially during the fast-approaching trial that 
awaits me! 

In the middle of July, scarcely three weeks after the last 
entry in my great-grandmother's diary, a little daughter was 
born to the Alvenslebens. It went hardly with poor Anna- 
liebe, and she was dangerously ill. Cecile Courtot nursed her 
devotedly, the two friends thus exchanging parts, the one who 
had hitherto enjoyed such unceasing care becoming the self- 
sacrificing nurse in her turn. It was long before the young 
mother recovered, and that she eventually quite regained her 
health and strength was entirely owing to the tender and un- 
remitting devotion of her husband and her faithful nurse 
Cecile. 

It was not till the 20th of September, Cecile's birthday, 
that the christening of the new baby could take place. The 
sponsors were Frau von Kroecher, Cecile, Uncle Briest, the 



THE JOYS OF MOTHERHOOD. 29 

poet Gleim, and a cousin, Busso von Alvensleben: so the names 
stand in the baptismal certificate of my grandmother — for 
she was that baby. She received the names Sophie, Elizabeth, 
Philippine, Cecile, and married on June 11, 1812, my grand- 
father, Friedrich von Liideritz, of Schonberg and Herzfelde. 

Gleim, who came over from Halberstadt for the christen- 
ing, dedicated two poems to Cecile, one praising her devotion 
as sick-nurse, the other bringing birthday greetings. 

September 28, 1794. 

It is long since I took any notice of you, my faithful little 
book ! Not but what I have sorely missed any daily commun- 
ings with you, for many are the landmarks in my young life 
and my wedded happiness that are set down in your pages. 
And now I have to confide to you the sweetest, the most won- 
derful event in a woman's life — that I am the mother of a dear 
little daughter. Mother! What a world of new impressions, 
duties, and delights that one little word opens up ! And there 
she lies beside me — a tiny enigma, and her darling blue eyes 
gaze at me with a question. " Who are you, and where have 
I come from ? " they seem to ask. 

What happiness lies for me in the thought that my Werner 
and I are now one in this dear infant ! Oh my beloved, how 
blessed are we in our mutual love ! Well I know it was my 
husband's secret hope that God would be pleased to grant 
us a son, but I could detect no faintest trace of disappoint- 
ment when it proved otherwise, and in his great joy at my safe 
delivery he thanked me on his knees for this divine pledge of 
our love. I am filled with a deep sense of the dignity of my 
new maternal estate. I seem to myself quite a grave and 



30 CECILE. 

reverend person ! Oh Heavenly Father, grant me Thy grace, 
that I may wisely fulfil my new duties, so that my child may 
in time grow up to be a good and useful woman. 

For long wretched weeks I lay upon a bed of sickness, at 
times so ill and weak that I thought my poor flame of life must 
flicker to its end. But God was good to me and let me stay 
with my babe and my Werner. Oh, how would it have been 
had I been called away into the Unknown Land and had to 
bid farewell to all my new-found joys ? But that I did finally 
recover I owe, after God, entirely to the unremitting care of 
my dear Cecile. Oh thou dear and faithful one, what didst 
thou not do for me during all those weary days ! I had no 
mother to be at my side in the hour of trial and danger; in 
Cecile I found friend and nurse and mother in one. Amply 
hast thou repaid all I may have done for thee ! 

And not only has Cecile nursed me back to life, she herself 
has become another creature through her cares for me. It 
has diverted her thoughts from her own troubles, and she 
seems to me to have well-nigh regained her health and spirits. 
The sweet eyes look out more cheerily upon the world, her 
whole nature has become brighter and more self-reliant, and 
a smile often plays round her wistful lips now. The soothing 
peace of country Hfe, the quiet round of household duties can 
achieve wonders. May they be thrice blessed to my Cecile ! 

A day or two ago, she came to me with a special request 
which, at first, I hardly knew how to answer. It seems that 
the little intriguante had taken advantage of my illness to make 
a business arrangement with Werner. She explained to him 
how impossible it would be for her to remain with us — perhaps 
for years — as our guest, and on Werner refusing to entertain 
her proposal she threatened to leave us. Thereupon, without 



CECILE'S JEWELS. 3 1 

consulting me, they arranged between themselves that she 
should pay a certain sum for board and lodging, Cecile hand- 
ing over, at the same time, a small capital invested in French 
rentes for my husband to manage. The papers connected with 
it were in the chest sent by Madame Gervais and had been 
a legacy to Cecile from her Aunt Choiseul. And with this 
fait accompli she now comes to me and asks my consent to the 
bargain ! 

At first I was quite indignant at the arrangement, but I 
saw afterwards that she was right ; indeed, under similar cir- 
cumstances, I think I should have done the same. 

This business settled to her satisfaction, Cecile proposed to 
show me something, and fetched from her room a great leather 
case. When, at her request, I opened it, I was dazzled by a 
blaze of pearls and diamonds. The set consisted of a necklace, 
a diadem, a brooch, and two bracelets formerly belonging to 
her Aunt Choiseul. And now she wished me to advise her 
as to how she might best convert them into money. I was 
struck dumb by the splendour of these jewels. The great 
diamonds flashed in a thousand colours — such superb gems, 
such exquisite milk-white pearls I had never beheld. Not that 
that is saying much, for with the exception of my mother's 
little diamond brooch and Werner's beautiful bracelet I pos- 
sess no jewellery. 

It seems a terrible pity to part with all this splendour, but 
as Cecile is anxious to increase her small capital with the pro- 
ceeds of the sale, there is no use wasting regrets over it. We 
decided therefore that as soon as I am well enough Werner 
will take us to Berlin and ofifer the jewels to the Court jeweller 
Harnisch. 

It was on this occasion that Cecile, for the first time. 



32 CECILE. 

touched upon the past. She spoke of her family estates Mont 
Courtot and Retracet in the Vendee, and also of her mother's 
splendid jewels, which she was sure had been stolen or de- 
stroyed at the burning of the Castle of Mont Courtot. 

I have made up my mind never to question Cecile again 
as to her past. She will open up the subject herself, all in good 
time. But this whole episode shows an immense advance; 
her dear heart and spirits seem to grow lighter every day. But 
enough for the present, — for Phillinchen is crying for me." 

The trip to Berlin had to be put off, however, for Cousin 
Vollrath Rauchhaupt meanwhile paid them a visit. 

The gallant colonel and his regiment were still with the so- 
called " Prussian-Saxon Army " on the Rhine under the com- 
mand of General von Mollendorf. 

The energies of this army were devoted to a few in- 
significant skirmishes with outposts, in fact it was the old 
story — there was no unity of purpose among the leaders and 
consequently no coherence between the various detachments 
of the army. Each general fought for his own hand, and no- 
body was the gainer. The men of the old regime, to whom 
Mollendorf also belonged, could not forget the Frederician 
methods of war, and found, to their dismay, that the elaborate 
combinations they drew up on paper were utterly antiquated 
and quite useless against the tactics of the young and brilliant 
French generals. Thus when Mollendorf received news of 
the retreat of the Army of the Moselle under Jourdan, instead 
of advancing upon the Sambre and so joining forces with his 
allies, he continued his own little separate war and advanced 
upon the Saar. 

Here, on the 23d of April, in accordance with a most in- 



LETTER FROM COUSIN RAUCHHAUPT. 33 

tricate plan of his, depending absolutely on the various con- 
verging columns completing their march in a given time, he 
attacked the enemy and forced him from his position in Kai- 
serslautern. This small success was, however, without im- 
portance for the campaign in general, and, considering that 
Mollendorf actually returned to his former position in Reh- 
bach, the whole affair might just as well never have happened, 
and was certainly not worth the expenditure of blood. In 
July, however, the French advanced once more and renewed 
the attack. There was fighting for a few days with varying 
success. Then suddenly — whether on his own initiative or in 
obedience to orders has never been made clear — General von 
Mollendorf concluded a three months' truce with General 
Jourdan, while the rest of the Allies continued the campaign. 

Colonel Rauchhaupt took advantage of this to go home on 
leave, and expressed his desire to pay a visit to his relations in 
Kalbe. 

His letter announcing his intention is among my great- 
grandmother's papers. 

Rehbach, June 25, 1794. 

Hearty thanks, my dear, good Werner, for your kind and 
sympathetic letter. True sympathy is ever a draught — if not 
of healing, at least of sweetest refreshment to the vanquished, 
especiahy if offered by so kind a hand as yours. And verily 
I have need of some such cordial, for our position is abomi- 
nable, and I doubt if it is likely to change for the better. I can 
endure it no longer, and hasten to inform you that I intend 
coming home. 

To-day a slight advance against the enemy, to-morrow 
precisely the same amount of retreat; one day one order, the 



34 CECILE. 

next a counterorder, so it goes on here without a break. If, 
by chance, we do manage to beat these Sansculottes a little 
and flatter ourselves they may be driven back to their den in 
Paris, the next minute it is "Halt!" and then a Council of 
War is called. Well, you must have had ample experience 
of it all. You know the way these gentlemen put their heads 
together and get out the maps and ancient war reports and 
handbooks and demonstrate conclusively therefrom that now 
is the exact and fitting moment at which to act on the de- 
fensive. The French meanwhile have a fine time of it, can 
rest from their late fatigues and presently, being much re- 
freshed, renew the attack upon us, while we — retreat as usual. 
I tell you, the whole afTair is getting beyond a joke. 

And so it has gone on for months. Oh Spirit of Frid- 
ericus le Grand, descend and fall into the midst of this 
crapiile like a thunderbolt! What can you expect? My blood 
boils at the mere recollection of that Bischofswerder. At the 
beginning of the campaign he demonstrated clearly to Gen- 
eral von Massenbach that he would do well not to buy many 
horses. The farce, he said, would not last long, the army of 
French attorneys was being well beaten in the Netherlands, 
and in two months at latest we should be back home again. 
— Just so, Monsieur Bischofswerder! Despite all the brave 
fighting of our men it is we who have been beaten through the 
disagreements and hetises of our generals. 

Eheu fugaces, I turn my back upon the Army ! 

But I have a great longing to see you dear people again, 
and if you will permit me, I will pay you a visit — not out of 
mere curiosity to see how you look as a Father, my dear 
Werner, but to ofTer you in person my heartiest good wishes. 
But how is this? A girl? I thought it was to have been a 



RAUCHHAUPT'S VISIT. 35 

boy? However, the looking forward to having one is not 
half bad either. 

And how fares it with the aimahle mademoiselle? You know, 
Werner, it is not nice of you to have left me so long without 
news of her. All I heard was that she had arrived safely and 
almost immediately afterwards fallen seriously ill. I shall have 
to teach you manners. Let me tell you that I am very much 
interested in that beautiful and forlorn young lady and pitied 
her most deeply. I beheve you kept silence just to intrigue 
me. If you can have me at present, please send me a few 
words to that effect, and reassure me, at the same time, about 
the lady. — And now farewell. I kiss the hands of the ladies. — 
You cannot think how delighted I am at the prospect of even 
a short respite from the insupportable conditions here! I am 
like a slave escaping over the frontier. Farewell and keep a 
place in your regard for your affectionate 

VOLLRATH. 

My great-grandfather must have answered this letter im- 
mediately and in the affirmative, for, by Annaliebe's diary, the 
Colonel arrived in Kalbe on August 20th. In the interval, 
however, she and the Baroness paid a short visit to Frau von 
Bismarck in Schonhausen, where they also met her nephew, 
young Ensign Karl, and had been much amused at the over- 
whelming impression Cecile evidently made upon the youth. 
He simply sat and stared at her open-mouthed, incapable of 
addressing a remark to her. As to Annaliebe's Impression of 
Cousin Vollrath, it Is apparent from the following entry in the 
diary that with his frankness and unaffected simplicity he 
pleased her greatly. 



36 CECILE. 

August 30, 1794. 

Cousin Vollrath arrived here last Tliursday. I confess that 
I was quite startled when I first caught sight of his huge form 
beside Werner as they alighted from the carriage and he 
stretched out his great hands to me. He overtops my Werner 
by nearly a head, and he is by no means short. What a 
thorough Teuton he is with his thick blond hair — so like my 
Westphalian cousins, rough and ready and withal so trusty 
and warm-hearted. He was at home with me at once, calling 
me " thou " from the first, and I had no difficulty in falling 
in with his affectionate brotherly tone. Cecile had come down 
with me to welcome the gentlemen, and now she and Vollrath 
were face to face once more. What a look of radiant happi- 
ness lit up his face at sight of her! His blue eyes positively 
beamed, and the giant bent low over Cecile's dear little hands 
which she laid so smilingly in his. The big man looked almost 
shy while my friend thanked him over and over again for his 
kindness to her and called him her preserver. I had to lay 
my hand upon her mouth to stop the flood of fond and beau- 
tiful things she said about us and our dear home. She could 
not find words to express how happy she was with us. But 
Cousin Vollrath listened to her words with such an ecstatic, 
almost adoring expression in his eyes, that I begin to fear for 
our poor cousin's heart. 

A week later. 

Vollrath is in truth an honest, upright, true-hearted man. 
I have learned to know him as such in these few days. How 
I could have wished my Cecile such a strong arm to lean upon 
in the future ! But I fear, I fear that will never be. Cecile 
cannot forget, and will ever remain true to the lover who gave 
his life for her. I cannot help thinking at times tha.t she is 



ANNALIEBE'S OBSERVATIONS, 37 

dimly conscious of Vollrath's feeling for her — it is plain 
enough, to be sure — and seems to shrink as from some danger 
and keep him off by a certain coldness of manner. But then, 
no doubt, the thought comes over her how much she is in- 
debted to him. In short, she has often during the last few 
days given me an impression of hesitancy, almost of vacillation, 
which I am quite unused to in her. I am curious to see how 
it will end. What I think is that Vollrath has come too soon. 
It is scarcely a year since all these terrible things happened to 
the sweet soul. She cannot even speak of them yet to me, her 
dearest friend, and he expects her to listen already to another 
wooing! No, my poor Vollrath, your hopes will be dashed to 
the ground; of that I am perfectly sure. 

Shall I get Werner to give him a word of warning? No, 
I had better not. Any interference in such matters is always 
a mistake. I must let things take their chance. 

The kind-hearted writer of the foregoing lines was not mis- 
taken in her observations. Cecile's charm of person and char- 
acter, and the certainly aiTecdonate regard she entertained for 
her benefactor, may well have awakened a strong feeling for 
her in his heart or have intensified what already existed. For 
Cecile seems to have made a profound impression on him 
even in Roermonde. But, as we all know, when love attacks 
a man in later life it is, as a rule, a very violent business. Then, 
too, the Colonel — as my mother, who remembered her great- 
uncle well, used often to tell us — had been in his youth a pro- 
nounced woman-hater. And now, over the man of nearly fifty 
there swept this mighty wave of love, which so filled his heart 
that he could not conceive the possibility of its not being 
returned. And so it came presently, as Annaliebe had feared, 



38 CECILE. 

to a declaration, of which my great-grandmother's diary con- 
tains the following account: 



September lo, 1794. 

And SO, my poor dear Cousin, it has happened as I feared 
in my heart that it would! Oh, that I could have warned you 
in time ! 

My Cecile and I were together to-day in my room, each 
occupied with a piece of needlework. It was a lovely autumn 
day, the whole sky was full of sunshine and the little feathered 
songsters kept up an incessant twittering in the great linden 
trees in front of the house. My baby lay asleep in her cradle 
in the adjoining bedroom, the door of which was ajar. Pres- 
ently I heard the sweet, low, tremulous little cry I love so well 
— the sign that my darling was hungry. I hastened to her, 
and leaving the door open between the rooms, seated myself 
near the window wdth Phillinchen at my breast. 

Presently I heard the door of the next room open and some 
one come in, and recognised the heavy footsteps of Cousin 
Vollrath. I could not very well rise to shut the door, and was 
therefore perforce obliged to listen to the following conversa- 
tion: " Oh, Mademoiselle Cecile, for once I find you alone," 
said he in tones of joyful surprise. " Bon jour, monsieur le 
colonel, aves-vous bien dormif Were you out already? " asked 
my friend gaily. " Yes, I was out with Werner. — But now, 
dearest lady, I find you alone, I can no longer restrain the con- 
fession that has long been on my lips. You have so captivated 
me by the beauty and charm both of your person and your 
spirit, that you have become and will ever remain the object of 
my dearest desires. No — I must speak, even though my heart 



RAUCHHAUPT'S PROPOSAL. 39 

tells me I may thereby, to my unspeakable and never-ending 
regret, lose you for ever. Oh, let me tell you how much — " 

I heard Cecile rise from her chair as he spoke, " Oh, my 
dear Colonel," she said in a tone of deep distress, " I beg you 
to spare me — " 

But Vollrath broke in excitedly: " No, dearest girl, the 
Judge, the Lawgiver, the God I worship in my heart, whom I 
will not disown and whose mandate I must obey, bids me tell 
you that I love you, that I honour you above all else in the 
world ! " 

" Oh, Monsieur le Colonel, in pity stop," entreated Cecile, 
her words broken by sobs, " cease to torture me thus." 

But Vollrath seemed no longer able to control the flood 
of his emotion. The words burst from his lips like a torrent. 
" I know that I have few claims upon a woman's love; I am 
neither young nor handsome, have no great fortune, and am 
very considerably your senior ; but he who does not attempt 
to gloss over his failings may surely be permitted to say a 
word in his own favour. To the woman who can find it in 
her heart to love me, just as I am, and at whose feet I lay my 
best, my all, to her I can unhesitatingly promise a happy Hfe 
at my side. Oh Cecile, give me a ray of hope that I may in 
time win your love — despair would rend my heart if I thought 
I must give you up for ever! " 

Oh, what fervent, heartfelt words were these — such as I 
would never have thought our good Cousin capable of. I felt 
ashamed of being even an involuntary witness of such deep 
emotion. Now that he paused, I could hear Cecile's bitter 
weeping and then her low answer broken by sobs. " My dear 
benefactor," she murmured, " you have had your will and 
spoken and made me a confession which I can only deplore. 



40 CECILE. 

For I feared — oh, how I feared this, and that I should have to 
wound the man who has done me great kindness — but it can 
never be. Why could you not be satisfied with our true and 
faithful friendship? By these words you deprive me of my 
hardly won peace of mind. — Oh, my dear, my honoured friend, 
I can never return the great gift of your love : my love, my 
whole heart belongs alone to my Hector, who gave his 
precious life for me. As long as I live I can never belong to 
another — never love another — only him, my Hector! " 

" Oh Cecile," said Vollrath, and the pain in his voice 
smote me to the heart — " Oh Cecile, this Hector is dead and 
a whole long life lies before you. Believe me, the blessing 
of the All-Merciful would rest upon our union. Is the whole 
happiness of my life nothing to you? Must I for ever stand 
back and give place to this dead man? Oh, I beseech you 
leave me a shred of hope! Only try me — you shall be so 
happy with me. I have no desire to praise myself, but this I 
can say with confidence, that I will be a devoted husband to 
you and carry you through life in these strong arms of mine. 
Oh desire of my heart, do not send me away without some 
little spark of hope — you are all my future, all my life to me ! " 

" How am I to give you hope, my best of friends?" cried 
Cecile. " Am I capable of tearing Hector's memory from my 
heart? No; I have no hope to give you, I must walk the path 
of life alone! Forgive me that I must wound you so cruelly, 
but since Hector's death my heart has been sad and empty 
and will never cease to yearn after him ! " 

By this time I had laid my little one back in her cradle 
and stood wringing my hands beside the door, my sympathy 
roused to the highest pitch. My weeping Cecile's sorrow and 



CECILE'S REFUSAL. 4 1 

distress, poor Vollrath's grievous pain, touched me to the 
quick, and yet I dared not go and comfort them. 

Silence fell between them after Cecile's last words and only 
her sobs were audible in the room. 

Then came Vollrath's grave sad voice: "Then, Baroness 
— if that is so — farewell, and forgive an unhappy man who has 
buoyed himself up with a false hope. Farewell, Mademoi- 
selle! " The door closed behind him. 

I flew to my poor darling, who had flung herself into her 
chair and covered her tear-drenched face with her hands, and 
gathering her into my arms, let her weep out her grief upon 
my loving breast. When I gently sought to comfort her — 
" Oh Annaliebe," she sobbed, " why must I deal such a blow 
to this beloved friend who holds so high a place in my heart! 
How gladly would I be able to return his love, seeing, too, what 
great joy I should thereby occasion to you both, my best and 
dearest of friends. But I cannot — I cannot. Hector's image 
never leaves me, day or night! " And the hot tears rushed to 
her eyes and she clasped her beautiful arms about my neck, 
" No, I cannot, I cannot," she repeated, sobbing. And I wept 
with her and soothed and comforted the dear creature as best 
I could. Presently, when she had grown a little quieter, she 
said she would keep the past from me no longer. " I must tell 
you something of my story," she went on. " My life has not 
been long in years, and yet so full of trouble and adversity. 
When you, dear sister of my heart, shall have heard all, you 
will not charge me with ingratitude in what I have done to- 
day. You will clearly understand that for me there can be no 
second love while I live." 

I told her then how happy I should be in her confidence, 
but as her emotions had been very naturally much excited by 



42 CECILE. 

Vollrath's wooing, she was to take her time and regain her 
tranquilHty before beginning upon the recital of her experi- 
ences. 

These were the agitating events of this day. Cousin Voll- 
rath left us this evening in a heartbroken state and without 
having spoken again to Cecile. I can only close this account 
with the lament: Poor, poor Vollrath, why could it not have 
been as you wished? And alas, poor Cecile! 

For a while after this, it was very quiet in the old house at 
Kalbe. During the next few weeks the diary contains one or 
two entries, according to which Annaliebe was far from satis- 
fied with her friend's state of health. On the loth of October, 
for instance, she says: "Cecile sleeps badly and has grown 
very low-spirited and silent once more. I could find it my 
heart to be vexed with our poor Vollrath for having upset her 
again by his premature declaration." 

At last, towards the end of October, Cecile seems to have 
regained her peace of mind, for, recalling her promise to 
Annaliebe, she begins to relate to her the story of her life, 
which my great-grandmother has duly set down in her diary. 



CHAPTER V. 
CECILE'S STORY. 

October 28, 1794. 

To-day, Cecile began to tell me her story. As even the 
beginning of the account includes much that is interesting and 
historically important, I will do my best to set it down as far 
as I can remember in her own words. Who knows but what 
at some future time, when I shall long have passed away, this 
record of an eye-witness of the overthrow and upheaval of all 
existing institutions in France may not be of value. 

After dinner to-day we went to my room, drew up 
our chairs before the cheerfully crackling fire, and Cecile be- 
gan: 

" As you know, dear Annaliebe, I was born on the 20th of 
September, 1763. My parents were living then at the Chateau 
de Mont Courtot, in the neighbourhood of Poitiers, and there I 
passed the first years of my childhood. My father had been an 
officer of the Garde Mousquetaires in Paris, where he met 
my mother, Anne de Pralins, at that time a Maid of Honour, 
and married her. My parents retired to Mont Courtot, my 
father receiving the title of Capitaine Honoraire. There was 
evidently a very agreeable social circle in the neighbourhood 
in those days, and my parents were specially intimate with the 
family of the Vicomte de TrelHssak of Chateau Trellissak, the 

43 



44 CECILE'S STORY. 

next estate to ours. When I was little my most constant play- 
mate was the only son of this family, Hector. He was three years 
older than I and was, even then, very much attached to me, 
so that his people often called me laughingly his petite Hancee. 
When I was fourteen I v>^as sent to the Convent of the Sacre 
Coeur at Fontenay and there received my education; but 
though I came home at intervals I lost sight of my old play- 
fellow Hector. He entered the regiment of the Queen's 
Dragoons at Luneville, and it was years before I saw him 
again. Later on, as the climate of the Vendee did not seem 
to suit my rather delicate mother, we settled again in Paris, 
my father re-entered his old regiment, and in 1781 was ad- 
vanced to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. I was then pre- 
sented at Court and made my debut in society, and for two 
years took part in all the festivities arranged by the young 
Queen Marie Antoinette. 

"' It was in the year 1783 and I was just twenty, when my 
dear mother received a letter from the Princess de Lamballe, 
then at her Chateau of Genevais in Savoy, begging her to con- 
fide me to her care as lady-in-waiting. 

" My parents were not sorry for this opportunity of re- 
moving me from the turmoil of the great city; for the ferment 
had already begun in Paris, and the teachings of a Rousseau, 
a Diderot, a Voltaire, had so stirred up the excitable elements 
in the people that it frequently came to violent scenes in the 
open street. My father and mother therefore gladly gave 
their consent to my occupying this position in the household 
of the Princess, whom they had known of old and for whom 
they entertained the highest regard. 

" In July of the same year I went to the Princess at 
Genevais. 



"PHILIPPE EGALITE." 45 

" Marie Therese Louise of Savoy-Carignan had not long 
been a widow, having lost her husband, Prince Stanislaus de 
Bourbon-Penthievre, after barely fifteen months of wedded 
life. He was a grandson of that Comte de Toulouse, the son 
of Louis XIV. and Madame de Montespan, for whom the 
king had revived the ancient dukedom of Penthievre. 

" The father-in-law of my Princess, Jean Marie de Bour- 
bon, Due de Penthievre, was the ultimate heir of all the legiti- 
mate children of Louis XIV. and consequently enormously 
rich, perhaps the wealthiest man of his day in all France. 

" He had but two children, Stanislaus and a daughter, 
Marie Louise de Bourbon, who was married to the Due 
d'Orleans, the despicable renegade ' Philippe Egalite.' He 
led a life of riot and debauchery and, on the outbreak of the 
Revolution, joined the Jacobin Club, hoping by their assist- 
ance to place himself upon the throne of France. 

" It is my firm conviction that this unprincipled villain 
brought about my sweet Princess's death. Of course I have 
no actual proofs of this, any more than it can be proved that 
Orleans was the leader of the armed mob who in 1789 broke 
into Versailles for the avowed purpose of murdering the 
Queen; but I shall go to my grave saying that he caused his 
sister-in-law, my beloved mistress, to be murdered by hired 
assassins in order to possess himself of the entire fortune of 
his father-in-law. And well may he be credited with such a 
crime, he whose whole life was one succession of fraud, hypoc- 
risy, and treachery! * 

" Forgive this digression, dear Annaliebe, but I cannot 

* Through the children of Philippe Egalite, one of whom was after- 
wards King Louis Philippe, the present Orleans family has come into 
possession of these immense revenues, reckoned at fourteen million 



4^ CECILE'S STORY. 

even think of that wretch — who ruined my life, too — without, 
being overcome with horror and disgust at the world as a 
whole where such a monster is allowed to live and carry out 
his fell designs! But I will return to my story. 

" Since her young husband's untimely death, the Princess 
de Lamballe had lived in great retirement at the Chateau 
Genevais on the Rhone, and there I joined her in 1783. Oh, 
Annaliebe, how shall I find words to describe that incompar- 
able, that angelic woman! I was soon devoted heart and soul 
to the sweet and noble-minded lady, whose unusual culture 
and exquisite beauty enthralled me, and I looked up to her as 
to a high ideal. You will agree with me, I am sure; one oc- 
casionally meets with instances of such whole-hearted admira- 
tion of a young girl for an older woman. I idolized her, and 
her seventeen years of seniority made no difference to us v/hat- 
ever. 

" We lived quite to ourselves at Chateau Genevais, and 
many were the happy hours I spent wandering about the beau- 
tiful park arm-in-arm with the Princess, who had retained all 
her youthful beauty and with her ccndre curls and delicately 
fair complexion looked years younger than she was. 

" Those were indeed days never to be forgotten, in the 
wonderful sunny South, when we passed most of our time in 
reading and discussing with one another the higher ideals of 
life. There was little or no society in the neighbourhood, and 
the quiet routine of our rural life was only broken by an occa- 
sional visit to the Court of Savoy. 

"Thus a year went by, and then came a day — the 15th of 
June — when my Princess resumed her connection with the 

francs. The present Due de Penthievre is the son of the Prince de 
Joinville, Pierre Philippe d'Orleans. — Note by the Editor. 



THE PRINCESS DE LAMBALLE. 47 

Royal family in Paris, and so took the first step upon that path 
which was to lead her to her dreadful doom, 

" We were sitting that evening on one of the verandas of 
the chateau overlooking the Park; a deep blue, star-gemmed 
southern sky curved over the landscape like a vast bell. The 
outline of the great Alpine chain showed dimly through the 
gathering gloom, and far away on the horizon some snow- 
capped peak glittered mysteriously under the starlight. 

" Below us the Rhone gleamed and sparkled, reflecting the 
lights in the windows of the little town of Genevais on its 
banks. Here and there a boat rocked on the rippling waves 
and the melodious song of the boatman floated up to us, while 
before us lay the verdant terraces of the park with their 
shadowy paths and tropical plants. 

" We had become silent ; the Princess leaned her white arm 
on the marble balustrade, and her blue eyes gazed dreamily 
across to the distant mountains behind which the full moon 
was rising majestically into the heavens. 

" Suddenly the blare of a posthorn in the courtyard broke 
the silence, and shortly afterwards the Princess's valet de 
chamhre brought her a large missive sealed with the arms of 
France. It was a letter from the Queen to her well-beloved 
Friend and Cousin, my dearest mistress. . The title Cousin 
had its justification in the fact that the Princess was related 
to the Royal House both through her mother, a Grand- 
Duchess of Tuscany, and her late husband, a Bourbon. This 
letter, as well as other documents relating to these events, I 
have kept by me. Here it is." 

With that, Cecile unfastened a large portfolio and took 
from it an envelope containing the following autograph letter 



48 CECILE'S STORY. 

from the Queen of France, written in a clear, almost manly 
hand. Cecile permitted me to copy it afterwards. It runs as 
follows : 

" Paris, Ic 12 juin 1783. 

" A la Princcsse Lamhalle: 

" Je ne puis resister au desir de profiter de I'occasion, qui 
s'ofifre, pour vous ecrire, ma chere Lamballe, quelques lignes. 
Les circonstances actuelles occupent mon ame trop, pour ne 
pas etre sensible de votre lettre et de votre amitie douce. 
Vous etes de ces coeurs, qui ne changent jamais et qui le 
malheur rend encore plus aimables. Soyez assuree, mon 
chere coeur, que mon amitie pour vous est inebranlable et que 
je ne pense changer. Je ne vous dis rien des affaires de la 
ville, vous savez tout ce qui se passe. II est impossible de 
sortir sans etre insulte une douzaine de fois. Je reste souvent 
pendant plusieurs jours a ma chambre et j'y suis seul. Alors 
il me tarde de vous voir. O mon chere coeur, venez a moi, 
j'ai besoin de vous ; venez a moi et occupez de nouveau votre 
place chez moi. 

" Adieu, mon amie divine, je vous embrasse de tout mon 
coeur. Ecrivez moi bientot quand vous viendrez. 

" Marie Antoinette." 

[Translation.'] 

" Paris, June 12, 1783. 

*' To the Princess Lamballe: 

" I cannot resist taking advantage of the opportunity 
which offers for sending you these few lines, my dear Lam- 
balle. The actual circumstances of my life at present weigh 



LETTER FROM THE QUEEN. 49 

too heavily upon my spirit for me not to be touched by your 
letter and the expression of your sweet friendship. Yours is 
one of those hearts which never change and which misfortune 
only renders more loving and lovable. Rest assured, my dear 
heart, that my love for you is unwavering, that I have no 
thought of ever feeling otherwise. , I need say nothing of the 
affairs of the city — you know all that is happening. It is im- 
possible to go outside the doors without being insulted a 
dozen times. I often remain in my rooms for days at a time, 
and I am alone. At such times I miss you sadly. Oh, my 
dear friend, come to me, I have need of you; come and oc- 
cupy your old place at my side. 

" Adieu, my angeHc friend, I embrace you with all my 
heart. Write me soon when you are coming. 

"Marie Antoinette." 

" Before her husband's death my Princess had filled the 
posts of First Lady-in-waiting and Mistress of the Ceremo- 
nies to the Queen," Cecile continued, " but had relinquished 
this on becoming a widow and lived in strict seclusion on her 
estates. And now she was to return to dreadful Paris ! For 
she was determined from the first moment to follow the 
Queen's call. Any one who appealed to her heart and her 
friendship never did so in vain. 

" She never paused to weigh the question, but, in spite of 
my entreaties to the contrary, wrote to the Queen that she 
would come. 

" But none the less I am thankful now to remember that 
I did try to dissuade my angelic mistress from her purpose 
and begged her to remain in our peaceful retreat. If she 
could have foreseen the dire consequences to herself of this 



50 CECILE'S STORY. 

sacrifice to friendship ! But I believe that even that knowledge 
would not have deterred her from carrying out her intentions. 
And so we migrated to Paris and exchanged our tranquil 
home for the witches' cauldron of the capital in which every 
base passion of the populace seethed and flared high, menac- 
ing destruction to the very throne itself, 

" As you may imagine, my position at Court as lady-in- 
waiting to the Princess was at first somewhat peculiar, seeing 
that the Princess must always be near the Queen and, at the 
same time, refused to part from me. Therefore I presently 
became, in a way, maid-of-honour to the Queen as well, rank- 
ing as the youngest of her ladies. 

At that time there were six ' dames de la reine ' : Mes- 
demoiselles de Liancourt and d'Estaing, de Noailles, de 
Laval, and de la Barre and myself. We were under the charge 
of the Second Lady-in-waiting, Madame de Noailles, and the 
Due de Breze was Master of the Ceremonies. Among the 
maids-of-honour I soon attached myself most to the amiable 
and lovely Adelaide de Noailles. We became inseparable and 
loved one another tenderly. 

" And now, cherie, in order to give you a faithful picture 
of those times, I must describe the impression the royal pair — 
v/hom I may say I saw daily — made upon me personally. As 
my duties often kept me for hours in their presence, I had 
every opportunity of gaining an accurate conception of these 
two noble victims to a nation's passion. 

" I will begin with the Queen, with whom I came most 
frequently in contact and therefore knew the best. 

" Here," proceeded Cecile, taking a lithographed copy of 
a picture from her portfolio and handing it to me, " is a fairly 
accurate copy of the painting by Senefelder which represents 



THE QUEEN. 5 1 

her with her children. Yes — that is my beautiful royal mis- 
tress. Look at the picture while I tell you about her and 
you will the better understand my description. On her right 
stands the Princess Marie Therese, on her left the Dauphin 
Louis Joseph, who died in 1789, and on her lap my poor little 
pet, the Dauphin Louis, at that time Due de Normandie, who 
afterwards came to such a piteous end. This little picture 
was given to me by Madame de Tourzel, the governess of the 
royal children. 

" Marie Antoinette was tall and slender, and the prevail- 
ing style of coiffure, in which her fair, slightly powdered hair 
was piled up high above her forehead, made her look even 
taller. Her large, dark blue eyes were wonderfully beautiful, 
their expression being for the most part languishing and 
melancholy, though again they could sparkle archly. Her 
natural temperament indeed was very gay. The slightly aqui- 
line nose, the decidedly large but exquisitely shaped mouth, 
and the — in her case greatly mitigated — Habsburg chin made 
her closely resemble her handsome mother Maria Theresa in 
her youth. The statuesque beauty of her shoulders, arms, and 
hands, like sculptured marble, was still further enhanced by 
the whitest skin you can imagine. 

" She had been most carefully brought up, and had she 
not been betrothed so early — she was only 15 — her charac- 
ter would have had more time to form itself under her 
mother's wise direction. She would doubtless then have 
learned to curb the great vivacity of her imagination which, 
at the time I speak of, frequently led her into an appearance 
of frivolity. 

" Let me show you the first letter Marie Antoinette — then 
15 years of age — wrote to the Dauphin, her fiance. I do not 



52 CECILE'S STORY. 

know how the Marquis de Stainville, who gave me this copy, 
came by the original, but he assured me that the copy was an 
absolutely correct one. 

"The letter testifies fully to the simpHcity and girlish 
charm of the youthful Princess. Here it is : 

" ViENNE, le 2^ mars 1770. 

" Monsieur le Dauphin et cher frere! 

" Je vous remercie du langage bienveillant que vous tenez 
sur moi. J'en suis profondement touchee et bien honoree et 
je sens quelles obligeances tant de bonte de votre part 
m'impose. 

" L'exemple et les preceptes de ma mere tendre et glori- 
euse m'ont eleves a remplir tons mes devoirs et a I'aide du 
bon Dieu j'espere qu'il me sera possible, employant toutes mes 
forces, de me montrer digne de ma nouvelle destination. Vous 
desirez, que mon consentement a votre choix accompagne 
celui de ITmperatrice-Reine et il faut, vous dites, que vous 
me receviez aussi par moi meme. Je suis vous repondre, 
parcequ'elle m'y autorise, que j'ai accepte les ordres de ma 
mere avec autant de plaisir que de veneration. Vous trou- 
verez en moi une epouse fidele et devouee, qui n'aura pas 
d'autre pensee qu'a vous plaire, de gagner votre affection et 
de se prouver la fille digne de votre aieul illustre. 

" Avec ces sentiments sinceres, je m'apelle, Monsieur le 
Dauphin et cher frere, 

"Votre bien affectionee et devouee 

" Marie Antoinette." 



THE QUEEN'S LETTER TO THE DAUPHIN. 53 

[Translation.'] 

" Vienna, March 27, 1770. 

''Monsieur le Dauphin and well-beloved Brother: 

" I thank you for the kind sentiments you express towards 
me. I am profoundly touched and highly honoured and am 
sensible of the obligations so much goodness on your part 
imposes on me. 

" By example and precept, my tender and renowned 
Mother has instructed me in all the duties incumbent upon 
me, and with the help of God and by exerting my utmost 
efforts I trust I may be enabled to show myself worthy of the 
position that lies before me. You desire that my personal 
consent to your choice should accompany that of the Em- 
press-Queen, so that, as you express it, you may receive my 
hand also from myself. I can reply, since she authorises me 
to do so, that I have accepted my Mother's orders with equal 
pleasure and respect. In me you shall find a faithful and de- 
voted wife who will have no other thought than to please 
you, to win your regard, and to prove a worthy daughter of 
your illustrious grandsire. 

" With these sincere sentiments, I subscribe myself. Mon- 
sieur le Dauphin and well-beloved Brother, 

" Your most affectionate and devoted 

" Marie Antoinette." 

"The marriage took place on the i6th of May of the same 
year, and the Dauphine entered France and was immediately 
plunged into the midst of the extremely difficult conditions 
which prevailed during the latter part of the reign of Louis 
XV. My friend Adelaide de Noailles, already a maid-of- 



54 CECILE'S STORY. 

honour in those days, told me that there had been but little 
affection between the young people at first. Their character 
and temperament were too dissimilar, and the Dauphin's 
slow-moving intelligence could not keep pace with the sport- 
ive wit and childlike vivacity of his girl-wife. When they 
came to the throne, however, and after the birth of their first 
child this was all changed and their union became a most 
tender one. This I, too, can thoroughly endorse from per- 
sonal observation. 

" Very soon the King permitted his youthful consort a 
certain amount of participation in the affairs of the govern- 
ment, and then it was that she first set the all-powerful party 
of the nobility against her. 

" With regard to the King, my dear AnnaUebe, I can only 
say that he was one of the best and kindest of men and stood 
intellectually much higher than is popularly declared. But his 
mind worked slowly and he had great difficulty in coming to 
a decision in critical moments. Thus it came about that he 
soon depended on the Queen to decide for him. 

" But at the root of the matter lay the fact that it was not 
in him to be a King, as we French understand the term. We 
are essentially a nation that demands a representation full of 
pomp and glory and splendour, and prides itself on being 
looked up to by other nations with admiration and wonder. 
This position it undoubtedly held under the hapless King's 
two predecessors, Louis XIV., who thoroughly understood 
how to manage his people, and Louis XV., the Well-Beloved, 
though both these monarchs tyrannised over and drained the 
nation at every available point. And now, after these mag- 
nificent potentates comes an unpretentious, almost puritan- 
ically simple Prince who never offered the people any oppor- 



THE QUEEN'S PLEASURES. 55 

tunity for satisfying their craving for glory and display. What 
was Paris to do with such a man? 

" Only now did they begin to condemn the Monarchy as 
an effete institution; only now did the teachings of the free- 
thinkers such as Rousseau and Lafayette, which were to 
sound the death-knell of the King, begin to take hold on the 
people. The sins of his fathers were visited upon him. 

" And alas, the influence of the fair Queen was always in- 
imical to the King's interests. As an Austrian she had, from 
the first, been detested by the nation at large; she offended 
the nobility, and then, when they turned the cold shoulder on 
her, absorbed herself in the life of amusement which appealed 
to her; and by her heedless extravagance often gave the peo- 
ple real cause for complaint. 

*' Of this, however, Marie Antoinette took little notice; 
light-hearted and volatile, she thought of nothing but an ever- 
changing round of fresh amusements. She possessed a lively 
fancy and frequently devised new and preposterous modes, and 
her expenditure was fabulous. The anger of the people waxed 
loud as they saw vast sums, destined properly for useful pur- 
poses, squandered on the costly pleasures of the Queen. 

" It was, unfortunately, not long before her reputation be- 
gan to suffer, for she cast off all trammels of Court etiquette 
and assembled round her a group of dubious persons with 
whom she felt herself quite at ease. My beloved Princess lost 
no opportunity of warning and admonishing her, but to no 
purpose; neither she nor any of the more conscientious ladies 
of the Court had the smallest influence over the Queen. She 
led her own life unconcernedly at Versailles and the Petit 
Trianon, and even at the time when we returned to Paris and 
the waves of the Revolution were already breaking against the 



$6 CECILE'S STORY. 

foot of the Throne, she cared not one jot for the opinion of 
the people. 

" There was at that time a trio of persons of more or less 
doubtful character who had great influence with the Queen 
and consequently on the government. These were, firstly 
Monsieur Leonard, the Queen's hairdresser, then her modiste, 
Mademoiselle Bertin, and thirdly a certain elderly person, a 
Demoiselle Montasin, the wealthy directess of a theatre. 

" Now as the vagaries invented by her Majesty and this 
precious trio usually required the assistance of the stage to 
put them into shape, comediennes like Contat, Sacuval, and 
others were presently admitted to the consultations in the 
Queen's apartments, and the whole clique became in time a 
real power through whom almost anything at Court could be 
obtained. 

" Unfortunately these actresses led anything but reputable 
lives. The people declared them cocoftes, and came ere long 
to believe that their intercourse with the Queen must in- 
evitably affect her morals. Soon they openly accused her of 
indiscretion, but I would put my hand in the fire for it that 
Marie Antoinette, in spite of this intercourse, was ever the 
purest of women and most faithful of wives. She never did 
anything to justify such accusations, but she should have 
avoided even the appearance of evil. In her consciousness of 
purity and her sovereign contempt for the opinion of the 
masses she felt herself beyond the range of these paltry calum- 
nies, and yet there lay the cause of her later woes. 

" Under these circumstances, we ladies had naturally a very 
difficult position, for our reputation suffered equally with the 
Queen's in the popular estimation. They even had the 
effrontery to lay all manner of scandalous things to the charge 



DEATH OF THE DAUPHIN. §7 

of my spotless Princess; but I can give my solemn word that 
we were all as innocent of wrong-doing as she, and that no one 
of us ever offended against her honour. 

" It was in 1784, when we had been about a year at Court, 
that the dreadful affair of the Diamond Necklace occurred; 
but I had better reserve my account of that till another time, 
it would lead me too far from the present subject. In this mat- 
ter also the Queen was absolutely blameless, as I, who in a 
measure shared in the accusation, have the best reason to 
know, besides possessing documents which will prove it con- 
clusively to you. But I firmly believe that Philippe d'Orleans 
had a hand in the odious business, as in everything brought 
against our beloved Queen. 

" This scandal of course was most injurious to the Queen's 
reputation, and formed another strand of the web that was 
being woven about the unhappy lady. 

" Some years passed, the Revolution crept nearer step by 
step, the state of the finances grew ever more desperate and 
the pamphlets against the Queen bolder and more scurrilous 
in tone. My Princess at last succeeded in opening her 
Majesty's eyes to the peril that menaced her and her family 
and to startle her out of her thoughtless indifference. Then, 
indeed, she saw clearly what she had been blind to before, and 
from that moment her levity vanished. The death of her eldest 
son, the Dauphin Louis, who succumbed to measles in the 
March of 1789, deepened the impression and transformed the 
light-hearted Queen into a grave and anxious woman who 
had begun to tremble for the lives of those dear to her and to 
steel herself for resistance to the foe. Brought face to face 
with danger, she proved herself a brave and resolute heroine, 
whose courage and prompt energy might have saved the tot- 



58 CECILE'S STORY. 

tering Monarchy had she been able to inspire her husband 
with the same quahties. 

" One horrible day of that period stands out most vividly 
before me — the 5th of October, 1789 — when the wretch Mail- 
lard suddenly appeared before Versailles at the head of a wild 
band of drunken men and women. At their shouts the Queen, 
accompanied by her husband and children, stepped out upon 
the balcony of the palace. and showed herself to the people; but 
scarcely had the mob caught sight of her than the foul- 
mouthed harpies began to yell : ' Down with the Austrian — 
strike her dead! Revenge! Revenge! But let the King and 
the royal children go unharmed!' I can see her now, how 
with a regal gesture she took the two children, placed them 
in the King's arms, and led him back into the room. Then, 
with head held high, she opened the door again and, deaf 
to our entreaties, returned aione to the balcony. So she stood 
with her arms crossed upon her bosom and gazed down calmly 
at the seething crowd beneath her feet. Oh, the peerless cour- 
age of her attitude, the dauntless gaze of those great blue eyes! 
Suddenly a deep silence fell upon the mob. Was it the all- 
conquering beauty of the woman, was it the haughty intrepidity 
of the Queen that overawed the rabble? Perhaps both. The 
next moment a loud voice cried, ' Vive la reine! ' and a great 
shout of ' Vive la reine ! ' went up from the assembled crowd. 
Ah, then you should have seen the smile of pride and triumph 
that flashed into the Queen's face! She bent her head slightly 
as if in acknowledgment, and stepped back into the room. 
For the moment she had got the upper hand, but, alas, only 
for the moment. 

" The very next morning at five o'clock occurred that 
monstrous attempt to assassinate the Queen of which I am 



ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE THE QUEEN. 59 

perfectly persuaded Philippe d'Orleans was the dastardly in- 
stigator. Adelaide de Noailles was in attendance on her Ma- 
jesty that night and remained in her rooms; we others, de- 
ceived by the apparent tranquillity of the people and worn out 
by the agitating incidents of the day, had retired to rest. We 
were awakened out of our sleep by the howling of the mob 
which was already pouring through the corridors of the pal- 
ace. Seizing what garments we could, we fled to the apart- 
ments of the Queen. The tumult grew louder and rapidly ap- 
proached the wing in which these apartments were situated. 
The body-guard was hewn down, but I managed at the last 
moment to lock the door against the furious onslaught. At 
the same moment a blow from an axe shivered the upper 
panel of the door into splinters; when, mercifully, the Prin- 
cess de Lamballe wrenched open a little door into a secret 
passage leading to the King's apartments. Into this passage 
we dragged the Queen, and had just time to lock the door 
before the ravening mob burst through the shattered doorway 
into the room we had left. We fled to the King and found 
ourselves in safety, as the National Guard were standing sen- 
try over his apartments. 

" How shall I describe to you the horrors that befell in 
the succeeding days and the terrible journey to Paris, 
throughout which we were exposed to the vilest insults and 
only escaped death as by a miracle ! These scenes belong to 
history, and for my part I shall remember every smallest de- 
tail as long as I live. Even now I can see as distinctly as then 
the hideous wolfish faces of the hags who danced screeching 
round the carriage, clambered on to the steps, and literally 
clawed the clothes from ofif our backs. It was as if all hell had 
been let loose around us. 



60 CECILE'S STORY. 

" In these days, at last, the Queen began to lose faith in 
her people. Hitherto she had clung to the belief that, though 
led astray for a time by false teachers, they could not fail 
eventually to return to their former allegiance; but now she 
began to tremble for the safety of the King and her family. 

" What efforts did she not make, in those days, to avert 
the impending evil! She endeavoured, through the medium 
of the Comte de Lamarque, to come to terms with the then all- 
powerful Mirabeau ; she did her utmost to win over the high- 
souled Lafayette, that passionate advocate of liberty — but all 
in vain. The stone was set rolling, the Monarchy was rush- 
ing to its doom. 

" And as, they say, rats leave a sinking ship, so did the 
nobility in this case. They who in the hour of danger should 
have formed a bulwark round the throne from which for gen- 
erations they had derived so much benefit, now basely de- 
serted it and fled for safety into other countries. Where were 
the representatives of the proudest names — the Princes of Ar- 
tois and their sons, the Princes of Conde and of Polignac, 
the Broglio, the Breteuil, and the rest of them? All on the 
other side of the Rhine. They abandoned the royal family 
to its fate and the daily outrages of a maddened and blood- 
thirsty populace. 

" Yet those days, so fraught with horror to my royal mas- 
ter and mistress, stand out in my memory as the brightest 
of my life, for then it was that the blessed flower of love first 
blossomed in my heart. Since our terrible departure from 
Versailles the Court had taken up its residence in the Tuile- 
ries, that ancient and long disused palace of the kings. It 
chanced one day that I crossed the great entrance-hall just 
as the guard was being changed. The uniform, that of the 



BETROTHAL TO HECTOR DE TRELLISSAK. 6 1 

blue Dragoons of the Queen, the regiment which had replaced 
the Garde du Corps, was unfamiliar to me, but not so the 
young officer who led them, for, as I looked more attentively, 
I recognised him as my old playfellow Hector de Trellissak. 
No words can say how overjoyed I was to see him, how 
thankful to know that in these days of trouble and anxiety 
I now had one friend on whom to lean. I had been feeling 
very lonely and deserted latterly; for, during all these years, 
my beloved parents had always been near me, but now for 
several months my father had been stationed with his regi- 
ment in the neighbourhood of Chalons, whither my mother 
had followed him. This increased the heartiness of my greet- 
ing to my childhood's comrade. We held each other's hands 
and gave free expression to our delight at the unexpected 
meeting. 

" How shall I describe the happiness of the days that fol- 
lowed ? Hector managed that we should see each other daily, 
his service at the Tuileries affording him a ready excuse, and 
love soon awoke in our hearts. Hector declared his passion, 
and my happiness was complete. 

" But oh, my Hector, how were these sweet hopes ful- 
filled ! Once only, after that, did I see him, and at that meet- 
ing he went to his death for me! " 

At these words Cecile broke into such a passion of tears 
that I was quite alarmed and, clasping her to me, begged her 
to postpone her story till another day. 

What stormy experiences my sweet friend has had in her 
short life compared to me, whose youth passed so calmly and 
uneventfully! Thus differently does God order the lives of 
His children! 



CHAPTER VI. 
CONTINUATION OF CECILE'S STORY. 

November 5, 1795. 

More than a week passed before Cecile could resume her 
story, several things happening to prevent her. First of all, 
we had a three days' visit from Uncle Briest. The painters are 
in his house and so, fastidious old bachelor that he is, he 
packed up and came over to us, bringing his old servant Chris- 
tian with him. 

His company was, if anything, more welcome and pleasant 
than usual, particularly on Cecile's account. She was very 
low-spirited again after telling me her story, but Briest takes 
such a delightful tone with her — now of playful banter, now of 
fatherly affection — that she cannot resist his influence. I do 
not doubt now that, with continued judicious treatment, Cecile 
will in time regain her old bright spirits. Nor do I give up 
hope that I may yet see her heart incline to our good Vollrath. 

Then we had dear Aunt Kroecher here, too, and to see her 
and Uncle Briest together is in itself the greatest treat. The 
story goes that they were deeply attached to each other in their 
youth; indeed. Uncle Briest always vows she was his first love. 
Maj'be, but one thing at any rate is certain: she is not his 
last — the two dear old creatures are in a perpetual state of active 
warfare. Besides these two we had a visit from my dear Frau 

62 



THE QUEEN SEEKS HELP ABROAD. 63 

von Bismarck, who invited Cecile to come and stay with her 
presently. 

After they had all gone the household settled down once 
more to its usual quiet routine, and last evening Cecile sug- 
gested that she should take up the thread of her story again. 
My Werner was permitted to join us this time, and I found 
that his presence had a most beneficial effect upon the dear 
girl; she was far calmer and more collected than before, al- 
though the scenes she described must of necessity have re- 
called the most agitating memories. 

" I told you," she accordingly resumed, " what a grievous 
blow was dealt to the royal family by the desertion of almost 
all the higher nobility. But that was not all, for these same 
nobles did them great harm even at a distance by levying 
troops in Austria for an invasion of France. The report being 
spread from Paris that the Queen was the originator of these 
hostile machinations, the nation rose against her as one man. 
Thus some months passed, and presently the royal family 
made their abortive attempt to escape from France. The 
King, alas, was recognised at St. Menehould and the whole 
party brought back to Paris. We ladies were not of the party, 
their Majesties having taken no suite with them in order to 
avoid remark. 

" Seeing clearly at last that all her efiforts to bring about 
a change in popular opinion were fruitless, the Queen now 
turned to the Princes of foreign states — her brothers and 
cousins — for help. The Princess de Lamballe was her first 
emissary, and was sent to England to persuade King George 
to make an invasion by sea. Marie Antoinette divulged to the 
Princess, at the same time, her determination to escape by 



64 CONTINUATION OF CECILE'S STORY. 

some means or other from the horrors of Paris. She said she 
hoped soon to meet us again in England. 

" And so, after a touchingly affectionate farewell from the 
Queen, we set out on September 12, 1791. It was doubly hard 
for me to leave my Hector and my dear parents behind in all 
that trouble and anxiety. A dark foreboding lay upon my 
heart. — My beloved parents I never saw again, and my lover ? 
Oh, only for one short moment of bhss . . . 

" We arrived safely in London after a stormy passage, but 
the Princess soon perceived that her mission was a hopeless 
one. The Queen and her daughters certainly received us most 
graciously and promised everything in their power, but their 
influence with the government was extremely slight. 

" My poor Princess returned to me one day bathed in tears, 
declaring with sobs that she had now given up all hope. She 
had had an audience with the Lord Chancellor Pitt, — who 
from the first had shown himself unwilling to render any 
assistance to France, — and he had not scrupled to tell her in 
cavalier manner that the English Government had no inclina- 
tion to act as catspaw for France; our King must extricate 
himself as best he could from these difficulties for which, after 
all, he had only himself to blame. 

" Nevertheless, though our efforts were in vain and we 
were sadly obliged to confess that ideal motives were power- 
less to touch this nation of shopkeepers. Queen Marie Antoi- 
nette insisted upon our remaining in England. 

" Many letters, of course, passed between me and my lover 
during those weeks. In each one he wrote how thankful he 
was to have me safe out of the country. One of his first letters, 
however, contained the disagreeable news that he was without 
an appointment, his regiment under Prince Lambesc having 



THE QUEEN TO THE PRINCESS LAMBALLE. 6$ 

basely deserted to the people during a street riot. Both the 
commander and the officers had barely escaped with their lives. 
He wrote besides of his great longing to see me again, then of 
the daily recurring riots in the streets of Paris, and that Heaven 
alone knew how it was going to end. 

"At last, being quite hopeless of achieving anything in 
England, the Princess wrote in July 1792, begging that she 
might return to the Queen and share her trials with her. In 
answer she received the following letter which I have pre- 
served with the rest: 

" Paris, 10 aout 1792. 

" A la Princess Lamballe! 

" Je suis heureuse, ma chere Lamballe, de vous savoir en 
surete dans I'etat affreux de nos affaires. A^"^ retournes pas. 
Je sais bien que votre coeur est fidele, mais je ne veux pas que 
vous reveniez. J'apporte du malheur a vous tous. II est en 
efifet necessaire pour mon repos, que mes amis ne se com- 
promettent, ce serait done les miner sans nous etre utile. 
N'ajoutez pas encore a mes inquietudes personelles I'in- 
quietude pour ceux que j'aime. Les freres du roi sont mal- 
heureusement entoures de personnes ambitieuses et etourdies, 
qui ne pourront que nous miner apres etre ruinees elles- 
memes, car ils ne veulent entendre ceux qui possedent notre 
confiance et qu'est le plus triste en ce moment, ce sont les 
emigrants armes. Je vous avoue, que malgre tout mon cou- 
rage, je serais heureuse de succomber si je n'avais pas mes 
pauvres enfants et mon epoux, qui conserve dans toutes ces 
affaires une serenite inouie. Autour de nous il n'y a rien que 
des tromperies, perfidies et mensonges ; je vois approcher une 
dissolution complete de la France. Je pleurs ma famille et 



66 CONTINUATION OF CECILE'S STORY. 

non pas moi-meme. La ville. est perpetuellement pleine de 
vagabonds et pourtant le bon peuple nous rend justice, mais 
il se tait, abaisse le tete et n'a aucun moyen de se proteger. 
Les scelerats sont devenus forts par cette faiblesse. Oh, 
qu'on s'appergut combien nous aimons le peuple, on rougirait 
des souffrances que nous avons eprouvees ; mais il ne sera 
pas possible de tirer le moindre avantage de ces bons senti- 
ments. El comme vous ecrivez il n'y a par la mon plus du 
secours pour nous. Que le bon dieu nous sois propice ! 

" Done, vous r ester ez la. Adieu, bon cceur, et aimez-moi 
comme je vous aime. 

" Marie Antoinette." 

[Translation.] 

" Paris, August lo, 1792. 

" To the Princess de LambaUe: 

" I am happy, my dear Lamballe, in view of the terrible 
state of affairs here, to know that you are in safety. Do not 
return. Well I know your true and faithful heart, but I do 
not wish that you should return. I bring misfortune upon you 
all. It is indeed essential to my peace of mind that our 
friends should not compromise themselves, thereby bringing 
about their own ruin and benefiting us not at all. Do not 
add to my personal griefs solicitude for the fate of those I 
love. The brothers of the King unfortunately are surrounded 
by ambitious and foolish persons who will inevitably ruin us 
after having compassed their own destruction; they will not 
listen to those who possess our confidence, and there is noth- 
ing sadder to my mind at the present moment than these 
armed emigres. I declare to you that, despite all my courage, 
I should rejoice to succumb were it not for my poor children 
and my husband, who, through all these trials, preserves a 



CECILE IN ENGLAND. ^I 

most amazing serenity. Nothing but treachery, knavishness, 
and lying prevails on every hand, and I see the complete dis- 
solution of France in the near future. My grief is for my 
family, not for myself. The city is perpetually overrun by 
rogues and vagabonds, and though our good citizens are not 
unjust to us in their hearts, they dare not give voice to their 
loyalty, being helpless even to defend themselves. The 
wicked have grown strong through that weakness. Oh, if 
the people could but realise how we love them, they would 
blush to think of the sufferings we have endured. But all our 
good sentiments avail us nothing, and you write that there 
is no hope of succour from that quarter either! — God help 
us! 

" Once more, then, remain where you are. Farewell, dear 
heart, and love me as I love you, 

" Marie Antoinette." 

I was deeply touched by this letter and wrote it down, 
the better to remember it. Surely it is enough to bring tears 
to the eyes to read how, in the midst of her own severe trials, 
the royal sufferer takes such thought for the welfare of be- 
loved friends then far away from her ! 

After we had discoursed a little on this subject, Cecile re- 
sumed her story. 

" As it was the Queen's wish, therefore, we remained in 

England under the hospitable roof of Lady S , but all 

our thoughts were in Paris with our dear ones whom we 
knew to be in danger. The Princess was indefatigable in her 
endeavours to further the cause of the Royal family, but the 
Queen of England merely put her off with empty promises 
and nothing: was done. 



6S CONTINUATION OF CECILE'S STORY. 

" Thus a year passed and the next one brought us fresh 
alarms. At the beginning of August came the terrible news 
of the storming of the Tuileries and that the Royal family had 
fled for protection to the Constituants. After that the dread- 
ful tidings came thick and fast. A fortnight later my nurse 
Gervais sent me the woeful news of the guillotining of my 
beloved father, who had suffered death with ten of his com- 
panions in arms. Next she wrote to inform me of the serious 
illness of my dear mother. My poor heart was rent with 
agony. I had left my father in the full vigour of his manly 
health and strength, and here he had been butchered by these 
assassins — he, so noble a man, so ardent a patriot, who had 
so often shed his blood for his country ! And now my mother 
was sick unto death and I far away in a foreign land, unable 
to go to her, to nurse and comfort her ! — Oh, it nearly drove 
me mad. 

" On the 1 8th of August the Princess received the fol- 
lowing brief lines from our royal mistress : 

" Paris, 14 aout 17 — . 

" Chere Lamballe! Venez a moi tout a I'heure. Je me 
trouve dans les plus grand danger, 

" Marie Antoinette." 

[Translation.] 

" Dear Lamballe: Come to me at once. I am in the great- 
est danger. 

" Marie Antoinette." 

" You will observe, Annaliebe," said Cecile as she handed 
me the document, "that the few words are written in a 



RETURN TO PARIS. 69 

trembling hand, quite unlike the usual firm writing of the 
Queen. But how should we have stayed to notice that at such 
a time? The beloved name of the Queen stood beneath it, 
she was in danger — she called, what more was necessary? 

" We started that same day for Cherbourg with our three 
serving-women and two men. On arriving there it suddenly 
occurred to me — I do not know to this day what put it in my 
head — that it might be dangerous to take one of my porte- 
vianteaux containing my jewels, my private documents, in fact 
all I possessed of value, with me to Paris. I determined there- 
fore to entrust it to my old nurse, and one of the Princess's 
servants, faithful old Hippolite, was despatched by a different 
route to Paris with injunctions to place this piece of baggage 
in the hands of my good Gervais in the Rue de Ricot. 

" These orders were duly carried out, and thus am I now in 
possession of my modest fortune, while so many of my fellow 
exiles have found themselves reduced to poverty and want, 

" We reached Paris on the 25th of August, and I cannot 
convey to you the painful impression the once gay and laugh- 
ing city made upon me after this absence. A drunken, half- 
demented rabble poured, howling and singing ribald songs, 
through the streets ; the guillotine in the Place de la Concorde 
daily claimed hundreds of victims, and a sickening reek of 
blood hung over the whole city. The Royal family were pris- 
oners in the Temple. 

" I hastened to my mother's lodging in the Rue du Bac, 
to find my dear one in her coffiin. My nurse met me in floods 
of tears with the harrowing intelligence that she had suc- 
cumbed three days ago to heart disease. I watched the night 
through in bitter grief and weeping beside her body. 

" Next morning the Princess came and carried me away. 



70 CONTINUATION OF CECILE'S STORY. 

She had passed a night of horror and despair with the Duchess 
de Liancourt and was now half distraught with terror, having 
with the utmost difficuhy escaped from a gang of infuriated 
ruffians who pursued her through several streets. She im- 
plored me to join her in seeking refuge with the Queen in the 
Temple; prison walls offered better security than this mad 
whirlpool of a city, where bands of ravening monsters hunted 
down every decently dressed person they caught sight of. I 
was in a no less desperate plight than she, and I believe I 
should have gone quite mad had I stayed any longer in my 
mother's house. Troop after troop of these horrible people 
passed through the street, breaking into the houses and 
searching the rooms for fresh victims to their unbridled pas- 
sions. 

" So we fled to the Temple and entreated the Commandant 
Floquet, a man with a debauched and brutal face, to allow us 
to share the captivity of the Queen. On hearing our names, 
he laughed cynically: 'Ah, the citoycnnes come of their own 
accord; so much the better, that saves us the trouble,' and he 
conducted us to the Queen. Marie Antoinette received us 
with a cry of horrified amazement. 'You, Lamballe! How 
do you come here? Did I not forbid you to leave England, 
and yet you have returned ? Must I drag you with me in my 
downfall, my poor friend! ' 

But we are here at your Majesty's own urgent request,' 
I murmured. 

What! ' she cried, ' my own request? But I adjured you 
both to remain in England ! ' 

Then, Philippe of Orleans, this is your handiwork! ' I said 
to myself. 

" We were permitted to remain with our Royal mistress 



SAD END OF THE PRINCESS DE LAMBALLE. /i 

till the evening, and she told us the story of her martyrdom 
during the months we had been absent. Oh, what nameless 
suffering had been hers! Her face indeed bore witness to it. 
Where was all her dazzling beauty fled? Grief and loss of 
freedom had destroyed it. Deep lines furrowed the once fair 
cheeks, sunken and dim were the lustrous eyes, blanched the 
golden hair; her hands had an incessant tremor and the sweet 
proud lips twitched convulsively. 

" When the evening came, the inhuman wretches, grudg- 
ing their royal victim even the poor consolation of the pres- 
ence of a friend, came and dragged us away, declaring that 
the Temple was already overcrowded and we must go to the 
prison of La Force. 

" Fiends that they were, they literally tore my sobbing 
Princess from the arms of the Queen so roughly that her 
Majesty nearly fell. One more kiss, one last fond look, and 
the two friends parted never to meet again in this life. 

" We were then dragged off to La Force, and cast into a 
dark and noisome cell with a crowd of other unfortunates. For 
three days only was I allowed to remain in the company of 
my beloved, my angelic Princess, then we were separated. 
The number of victims increased so rapidly that this prison, 
too, became full to o'erflowing. 

" On the fourth day after our arrival, the gaoler came with 
a long list of names — mine among the number — and we 
learned that thirty of us were to be transferred to another prison 
— the majority to the Abbaye St. Germain, but I to the Tem- 
ple, where doubtless the guillotine had by this time made a 
considerable gap. 

" Let me draw a veil over my parting from the friend who 
for years had been the light of my life. Yet I confidently hoped 



72 CONTINUATION OF CECILE'S STORY. 

for a reunion with her, and this thought upheld me in my sor- 
row. For how could I imagine that the world contained 
creatures so base as to compass the death of this saintly be- 
ing? 

" Alas, I was indeed to see that beloved face once more, 
but under what ghastly circumstances! 

" It was the i8th of September. After long and earnest 
entreaty, I prevailed upon my gaoler to let me have speech of 
the Queen, to whom I had brought messages of affectionate 
greeting from the Princess. I was alone with the Royal family 
in a room on the ground-floor, and I was giving the King an 
account of our fruitless mission in London. Suddenly from 
the street came the yells and shouts of the mob, and the words : 
' Citoyenne Capet, Citoyenne Capet, ir gardes done! Come to 
the window! ' were distinct above the rest. 

" With her wonted dignity, the Queen approached the win- 
dow. The next moment she thrust out her clenched hands 
convulsively, her gaze grew fixed in horror, and with a 
piercing shriek she fell to the ground in a deep swoon. The 
King and I sprang to her assistance, and then I too looked out 
of the window. There I beheld a beloved head, the sweet and 
bloodless face framed in long fair curls; saw two wide-open 
glassy blue eyes, which even grim Death had been powerless to 
rob of their melting expression — the head of my idolised friend 
stuck upon a pike and borne aloft in the midst of a howling 
mob of devils ! 

"At this my senses, too, forsook me and with a wail of 
horror I sank lifeless to the ground. 

" It was not till many hours later that I regained conscious- 
ness in the dungeon where I was confined with forty other 



DETAILS OF THE MURDER OF THE PRINCESS. 73 

prisoners, and found myself in the arms of Clotilde de 
Mortemar. 

" From her I learned the details of the infamous crime 
which had been perpetrated against my unfortunate Princess. 

" The dear saint had been dragged before a tribunal and 
accused of conspiring with foreign Powers against the nation. 
On her denying this, they promised her her liberty if she would 
openly express her detestation of the Monarchy. This she of 
course indignantly refused to do, whereupon the self-styled 
Court of Justice resolved to decide the question of her guilt 
by vote. The result was an even number for and against, and 
being unable to prove the least misdemeanour against her, they 
pronounced her acquittal, showing thereby that there were 
still a few right-minded men on the tribunal. Indeed, this ver- 
dict, which even called forth a cry of Bravo! here and there 
among the on-lookers, is one of the few bright spots in the 
Reign of Terror. 

" The Princess was then led away to be released, but no 
sooner did she set foot outside the hall in which the trial took 
place than she was surrounded by a band of masked and armed 
men who drove ofif the guard of gendarmes and then de- 
spatched her with their sabres. After mutilating the fair 
corpse in the most frightful manner, the ruffians fixed her head 
and her faithful heart upon pikes and paraded these ghastly 
trophies, first before the house of the Due de Penthievre, her 
father-in-law, and then before the windows of the Temple. 

" Thus did my idol, my adored mistress, end her saintly 
life under the daggers of a gang of hired cut-throats. I trust 
that the wretch whose paid instruments they were is now re- 
ceiving the just reward of his infamous crimes before the Judg- 
ment Seat of God ! 



74 CONTINUATION OF CECILE'S STORY. 

" But enough, dear friends, for to-day. These hideous 
scenes come back to me so vividly when I describe them that 
my agitation is almost too much for me. I must stop for a 
while." 



CHAPTER VII. 
CECILE CONTINUES HER STORY. 

November 6, 1794. 

On the following evening Cecile declared herself ready to 
resume her story. 

" After hearing from Clotilde Mortemar the account of 
my beloved friend's appalling death, I became grievously ill. 
Black night closed in upon my shattered mind, and for long, 
long weeks brain-fever kept me unconscious of my surround- 
ings. 

" Not till the June of the next year, when my King's head 
had long since fallen under the knife of the guillotine, did I 
awake to full consciousness and was able to grasp what was 
going on about me. 

" It is indeed a wonder that I did not succumb to my ill- 
ness, lying as I did all the time in a corner of the great stone 
dungeon; and I owe my life entirely to the devoted care of my 
friend Clotilde Mortemar. But how gladly would I have died 
then! 

" The only thing I remember during those days was the 
news of the Queen's removal to the Conciergerie. The Mar- 
quise de Fontanges had witnessed the parting between Marie 
Antoinette and her ladies, and was never tired of describing 
the heartrending scene as they lay upon their knees around 

75 



76 CECILE CONTINUES HER STORY. 

their Royal mistress. The Queen kissed each one of them in 
turn and whispered: 'Farewell, do not forget me.' Then 
bowing her head she passed from their sight forever. 

" Meanwhile I, with many another companion in misery, 
v/as doomed to pass long months of captivity in the horrible 
vaulted dungeon, that had been a cellar of the Temple, in per- 
petual semi-darkness, only sparely illuminated by a few evil- 
smelling oil lamps. 

" There must, at that time, have been quite fifty persons 
of all ranks and ages — even a few litt.,: children — confined in 
this damp and mouldy cellar; artists and savants, nobles, 
ladies of every rank and standing, priests and teachers of the 
people — every one, in fact, down to the very servants, in any 
way connected with the Court or the aristocracy, whether of 
birth or of culture. 

" Here we were privileged to sit at the feet of such intel- 
lectual giants as Condorcet, Vique d'Azyr, the poets Florian 
and Boucher, and to listen to such discourses as made us for- 
get that murder and desolation surrounded us on every side. 

" There, too, in that grim twilight, the painter Frangois 
Boucher sketched a portrait of the poet Chenier, who after- 
wards sent it to his fondly loved wife with the following 
charming lines : 

" ' Objets charmants et doux, ne vous etonnez pas. 
Si quelqu'air de tristesse obscurcit mon visage. 
Lorsqu'un crayon savant dessinalt cet image, 
J'attendais I'echafaud et je pensais a vous.' 

" How many instances of generosity and noble self-sacri- 
fice did I not witness during those days ! Married couples, 
parents, children had no thought but to console and support 



CECILE'S IMPRISONMENT. 77 

one another; and now and then it would happen that at the 
call of the executioner a son would answer for a father, a 
friend for a friend, and go to the scaffold in his stead. But 
those that remained lived on unconcernedly. Our under- 
ground prison seemed almost hke a tranquil island round 
which the breakers foamed and raged. The only thing that 
came to disturb our even calm was the executioner's hand that 
would snatch away one or other out of the friendly circle to 
his death. 

" It was like another world down here. Up above, all the 
qualities that go to adorn life — grace and courtesy, reverence 
and polished manners — were rigorously tabooed; they had 
fled for refuge to these dungeons, these ante-chambers to the 
Halls of Death. Here there were no " citoyens " or 
" citoyennes," every one received his proper title ; it was 
Monsieur le Marquis or le Vicomte, Monsieur le Professeur 
or le Conseiller, just as if we had been at St. Cloud, or in the 
reception-rooms of the Palace of Versailles. 

" Good tone demanded that all sign of dread or anxiety 
should be repressed, and the presence of ladies lent a certain 
air of gaiety to the scene, 

" How well I remember the aged Marquise d'Amblas, a 
venerable lady of nearly eighty with snow-white hair piled 
above her forehead, remarking one day : " Ah, mesdames, and 
you, messieurs, we are all eighty years of age now! " And she 
laughed a high shrill laugh that echoed eerily from the 
vaulted roof like a voice from the tombs. 

" She had hardly spoken when the great door creaked on 
its hinges and a half-tipsy gaoler stumbled in. Beckoning 
with a grimy hand, he called in husky tones : ' Plere, Citoy- 
enne Amblas, come along — ^you're wanted ! ' 



78 CECILE CONTINUES HER STORY. 

" ' Indeed ? ' replied the Marquise, ' I am quite ready.' She 
rose from the stone bench where she had been sitting, re- 
arranged the black lace scarf upon her white hair, smoothed 
out the folds of her long black gown, and with a deep court 
curtsey to us, said: ' Mesdames, I have the honour to bid 
you farewell — a rcvoir. Monsieur le Marquis de Varennes, 
your arm! ' With unfaltering step and the proud carriage of 
a queen the old lady swept to the door which the gaoler held 
open for her. One more bow to us and she was gone — gone 
to her death ! 

" A momentary silence fell upon us after her departure, 
and then the conversation was resumed as if nothing had hap- 
pened — a characteristic example of the French capacity for 
making the best of a matter, however bad. 

" Thus, one day, there sat in a corner under a smoking 
lamp a party consisting of Madame de Branchue, de Chateau- 
neuf, and two gentlemicn: the Abbe de Mercier, if I remem- 
ber rightly, and the Comte de B. They were playing * Tric- 
Trac ' with a pack of greasy cards, and the Abbe was in the 
act of dealing when his name was called. He rose with a 
smile, and turing to the Comte, who was standing behind 
him, he said : ' Will you have the kindness. Monsieur le 
Comte, to take my cards in the mean time? ' 

** He bowed and left. This in the mean time meant for him 
eternity — he was guillotined within the hour. I could multi- 
ply such instances of dignified composure and contempt of 
death by the dozen, 

" And so the time wore on till the 22d of July. Towards 
midday some of us were sitting together, listening to the old 
Duchess de Bazancourt as she discoursed contemptuously of 
the miserable Dubarry and how she had come over from Eng- 



CONDEMNED TO DEATH. 79 

land in the hope of rescuing her fortune and, on being ar- 
rested, had behaved in the most despicable manner. She had 
no idea how to die with propriety, for, on the way to the 
guillotine, she had shrieked and bewailed herself so unre- 
strainedly that she very nearly persuaded the mob to effect 
her release. The Duchess was indignant and a lively con- 
versation ensued, in which each of us brought forward gome 
instance of heroism displayed by various of our friends. 

" Suddenly the door opened and our gaoler entered with 
a long list in his hand and proceeded to call the names of to- 
day's batch of victims. I had in course of time grown so 
accustomed to these daily roll-calls that I had ceased to re- 
gard them as anything unusual ; indeed, I had begun to feel 
that they had forgotten me altogether, and my poor heart 
was numbed by the oft-recurring pangs of parting. 

" This day's list was an exceptionally long one, and we 
all listened in breathless silence, save that from one corner 
came the usual intermittent ejaculations, ' Spades are 
trumps,' or the like, or a gentle ripple of laughter after a 
bon-mot from one or other of the card-players. In between 
came the low response of ' Here ! ' from those whose names 
were called; among them, on that occasion, the Dukes de 
Brissac and d'Abacourt, Messieurs de Roucher, de Lafitte, and 
others, then the ladies Desiree de Lavallade, Eugenie 
d'Absak, Laure d'Hauteville, and many, many more — then, 
at the very end, yet one more — my own, Cecile de Courtot ! 

" At the sound an icy hand seemed to grip my heart and 
shuddering despair fell upon me. I was but twenty-nine: 
was this the end — must I really die so soon? At the bottom 
of my heart there had always lain a secret belief that by some 
unforeseen chance I should yet go free, should escape this 



8o CECIL E CONTINUES HER STORY. 

hideous death. And now, after all, my turn had come like 
all the rest! 

" Then came the thought of the dear ones v/ho had gone 
before me — my beloved parents, my cherished Princess — and 
the weight of my terror seemed lightened, till suddenly the 
remembrance of Hector crossed my mind. Oh, God! it 
meant that I must leave him, my lover, whom, though I had 
heard no word of him during ah these weary months, I still 
counted among the living; for otherwise his departing spirit, 
I was convinced, would have given me some sign. He lived 
and I must die. 

" The torture of that thought was more than I could bear; 
with a bitter cry of ' Hector ! ' I fell senseless to the ground, 

" But all too soon my consciousness returned under the 
kindly ministrations of my faithful companion in suffering, 
Clothilde de Mortemar, and I realised the full horror of my 
situation: in full possession of health and faculties I must go 
down into death. Oh, can anything in this world be more 
appalling than to be forced to say to oneself — One short hour 
hence and my head will be severed from my body! This head 
with its active brain which can still think and cherish its small 
hopes and desires will then lie in the blood-stained basket 
where so many have fallen before it; this beating heart will 
be stilled on a sudden and for ever. And after that? Will 
Death be followed by Eternity and a reunion with our loved 
ones, or do we sink into Nirvana as Rousseau, Helvetius, and 
the other freethinkers declare? 

" Thoughts like these rushed tumultuously through my 
mind as shuddering I laid my head on Clothilde's breast and, 
supported by her arm, tottered into the courtyard where the 
other victims were already assembled, and only awaiting me 



IN THE TUMBRIL.^ 8 1 

to mount the cart — the 'coffin for the living,' as the people 
called it. Into this we were now dragged and hustled and had 
to stand closely packed — some thirty of us altogether — under 
the pitiless rays of the summer sun and most of us bare- 
headed. 

" And so the dolorous journey began. 

" A party of gendarmes — chosen apparently from the dregs 
of the people — surrounded the tumbril, but it was all they 
could do to protect us with their drawn sabres from the furious 
and determined onslaughts of the mob, which ran and leapt 
beside us like fierce tigers, sometimes stretching up a horrible 
brawny hand to snatch at one or other of us. 

" Among them was one woman, a hideous, half-naked, 
blood-besmeared hag, who seemed to have conceived a special 
grudge against poor unfortunate me. Whether it was the 
white silk scarf that covered my shoulders, or that she regarded 
me as a peculiarly dangerous criminal, I know not, but she 
threw stones at me and showered the most abusive epithets 
on me. Finally, she broke through the ring of gendarmes, 
leapt on to the footboard of the tumbril, and, holding fast to 
my dress by one gory hand, dealt me a heavy blow in the face 
with the other and tore my silk scarf from me. Then, with a 
screech of derisive laughter, she dropped to the ground and 
disappeared with her booty among the crowd. 

" And tliere was I left standing v/eeping, with bare neck 
and shoulders which I vainly strove to cover from the im- 
pudent gaze of the crowd with my arms, and God's fair 
sun shone down serenely upon all these abominations. 

" At last, at last, we reached the Abbaye St. Germain and 
were driven into the courtyard like a herd of cattle. Here, at 
a filthy table covered with brandy-bottles and tobacco-pipes. 



82 CECILE CONTINUES HER STORY. 

sat the self-constituted tribunal presided over by Maillard — 
the same ruffian who led the rabble in the attack on Versailles 
— wearing a tricolour sash and a long sword at his side. This 
was the bench of magistrates who in the name of Liberty, Fra- 
ternity, and Equality was to pronounce judgment upon us! 

" The accused were disposed in two long rows in front of 
the table, and as I was in the back one I was compelled to wit- 
ness the whole proceedings before it came to my turn. Each 
name was called, and at last the terrible Maillard called: 
' Citoyenne Cecile Courtot, lady-in-waiting to the citoyenne 
Lamballe! ' ' Here,' I stammered in a low voice, and advanced 
a step. I was still endeavouring to cover my neck with my 
hands, but immediately two wretches pulled them down and 
I was left trembling and exposed to the shameless leers and 
mocking smiles of my abominable judges. 

" Maillard now proceeded to interrogate me. * Have you, 
Cecile Courtot, ever spoken against the Republic?' 'No,' I 
faltered. ' Have you circulated aristocratical pamphlets? ' I, 
poor hapless one, was to have circulated pamphlets! I lifted 
my eyes to my cruel interrogator and answered, * No — never! ' 
I was beginning to falter out something in self-defence when 
the monster roared at me : ' Silence — that is contempt of 
court ! ' 

" Maillard then apparently set a mark of some kind against 
my name which he showed with a grin to his colleagues, then 
at a sign from him three of his creatures seized me, bound my 
hands behind my back and dragged me to a corner of the 
courtyard, where others of my companions in death were hud- 
dled together and where we had to wait till our numbers were 
complete. 

" Now throughout these proceedings I had retained a per- 



THE MOCK TRIAL. 83 

fectly clear mind, I watched the whole scene — the mere re- 
collection of which after all these years makes my blood run 
cold — as if it had nothing whatever to do with me; as one fol- 
lows the course of a tragedy on the stage. No merciful veil 
of unconsciousness fell over my senses, as happened to several 
of my companions. I am at a loss to understand where, con- 
sidering how weak and wretched I was and scarcely recovered 
from so severe an illness, I got such strength of mind that day. 

" Meanwhile it had become afternoon, and presently the 
bell that erstwhile had called the pious sisters to mass struck 
three. Our hour had come. We were driven through wide 
vaulted passages to another entrance where the death-cart 
again awaited us and we were once more thrust into it. All 
was now ready for the start, but the two wretched animals 
harnessed to the overladen tumbril could not move it an inch. 
Immediately the bloodthirsty mob gathered round, a con- 
tingent of hideous viragos seized the spokes of the wheels and 
pushed the vehicle forward. And so we set forth upon our 
second pilgrimage of woe, surrounded by a band of drunken 
furies leaping and yelling, calling us foul names and taunting 
us with our approaching end, while in front of the tumbril 
marched the main body of the rabble, howling the Marseillaise 
and headed by a semi-nude young woman bearing aloft a great 
blood-red flag. 

" I gazed at it all in disgust and amazement. Could this 
canaille — distorted out of all human semblance by the lust of 
blood — be the same harmlessly gay, light-hearted populace I 
used to know? From what hidden dens of crime had these 
monsters come forth who now called themselves the French 
people? 

"A nameless terror took hold upon me and made me 



$4 CECILS CONTINUES HER STORY. 

long for the end — for now I was actually on my way to death ; 
only a Httle span of time separated me from eternity. 

" I closed my eyes to shut out the revolting sights around 
me and absorbed my whole spirit, my every thought, in pas- 
sionate prayer to God, entreating Him to deal mercifully with 
me, to let my last agony be short and then receive my un- 
worthy soul to be with Him in heaven. 

" This prayer accomplished, I allowed my thoughts to 
dwell once more entirely with my lover, invoking every fond 
blessing upon him, and praying that God would guard him 
and at least permit him to remain in life. 

" Thus occupied in fervent commune with Heaven, my 
soul had already cast off its earthly shackles and crossed the 
threshold of the other world. Suddenly I was recalled to 
earth by a shrill clamour of voices and the violent stoppage 
of the tumbril. Opening my eyes, I saw that our way was 
barred by a hand-cart on which lay a small barrel. The street 
took a sharp bend and happened at that point to be per- 
pendicularly narrow, so that the cart completely blocked the 
thoroughfare and was apparently fixed to the ground in some 
way, for though the people pushed and dragged at it, .they 
failed to move it. 

" Scarcely had I realised the nature of the obstruction, 
when a shot was fired from one of the houses and the next 
moment there was a terrific explosion — we prisoners were 
tlij-own violently against one another, and I, stunned and half 
senseless, scarcely knew what was happening around me. The 
earth seemed to yawn before my very eyes and a vast pillar 
of fire rose into the sky. The houses rocked, shutters were 
loosened and fell clattering to the ground, and the air was 
darkened by a thick cloud of smoke and dust, while from a 



SAVED BY HECTOR. 85 

hundred voices came shrieks of pain or the groans of the 
dying. It might have been the end of the world. 

" The cart and everything in front of it lay in ruins, and 
I found myself half buried under a heap of struggling, groan- 
ing people. Wonderful to relate, though nearly every one in 
the vicinity had been more or less severely wounded by the ex- 
plosion, I had remained unhurt, but lying where I did, I was 
absolutely powerless to move or make any effort to escape, 
though complete panic had seized upon the people, and every 
one who was able was fleeing from the scene of the disaster. 

" So I lay motionless where I was and resigned to my fate. 
Suddenly a dear familiar voice struck upon my ear : ' My 
Cecile, rouse yourself; it is I,' came the whisper. I thought I 
must be dead and that my lover was welcoming me in heaven. 

" ' Cecile,' he murmured again, ' my Cecile ! ' I opened my 
eyes — over me leaned a blackened face out of which a pair 
of blue eyes gazed tenderly at me. Oh heavens — those were 
Hector's dear eyes! 

" ' Hector,' I stammered faintly, ' can it be you ? ' Could 
it be that I was granted the unspeakable blessing of seeing 
my lover once again and bidding him farewell before I died? 

" ' Quick, Cecile ! ' he answered in the same low tones. ' I 
have come to save you.' Save me? That word brought me 
back to earth with a thrill of half-incredulous joy, and my 
head sank upon his breast. 

" Only then did Hector perceive that my hands were 
bound. One cut with his knife and I was free. I wound my 
arms about his neck, and he dragged me out from under the 
wounded and set me on my feet. Then, in the midst of all 
that horror and alarm, he clasped me to his heart and pressed 
his Hps to mine in a long clinging kiss. — Oh God, little did I 



86 CECILE CONTINUES HER STORY. 

think it was to be the last kiss we should ever exchange in 
this life ! 

" Hector's next thought was to get clear of the chaos. He 
was hurrying with me to an open doorway close by, when a 
gendarme, who had managed to extricate himself from under 
one of the horses, caught sight of us, and with a cry of ' Halte 
la ! halte la ! ' rushed at us with drawn sword. At the same 
moment, another disguised man appeared at Hector's side, to 
whom my lover cried, as he disengaged my arms from his 
neck, ' Take her, Tancred ; I will cover your retreat ! ' Then, 
seizing his friend's heavy bludgeon, he hurled himself on our 
pursuer. There was a short, fierce struggle ; I saw my lover's 
weapon descend with a crashing blow on the miscreant's head, 
but simultaneously the gendarme's sabre struck Hector. 
I saw him fall covered with blood from a frightful gash across 
his forehead — saw the returning crowd close over him like a 
wave — saw him trampled under foot — and knew no more : a 
deep and blessed unconsciousness came to my relief. 

" Many weary hours must have passed before I awoke 
from my swoon and found myself lying on old Nurse Gervais' 
bed, whither Hector's friend, Tancred d'Aubignac, had suc- 
ceeded in conveying me. Gervais nursed me tenderly; in a 
few days I was able to leave my bed, and shortly afterwards 
managed to escape with d'Aubignac out of that dreadful city 
disguised as a peasant boy. We made our way — chiefly under 
cover of night — through France till we got across the fron- 
tier to Holland, but during the whole time I seemed to be 
living in a dream. A dull weight lay upon my spirit, crush- 
ing my senses and blunting my m.emory. My one absorbing 
thought was to get away from this land of terror — to Ger- 
many, if possible, there to find rest and a grave. 



CECILE ESCAPES INTO GERMANY. 87 

"Why to Germany in particular, you will ask. Per- 
sistently there ran in my mind a description I had heard from 
Madame de Stael of the beautiful Luise of Mecklenburg- 
Strelitz, the betrothed of the Crown Prince Frederick William 
of Prussia, whom she had met while visiting the Landgravine 
of Hesse, and who would soon come to live at Potsdam, 
Somehow this description had taken a great hold on my 
imagination, and I felt an intense longing to get to Germany. 
Thus we succeeded in avoiding the French troops stationed 
in Holland and arrived at last in Roermonde, then occupied 
by your countrymen. 

" How I met Colonel Rauchhaupt in the house of Madame 
la Saque and through his great kindness was passed on to 
you, my dear friends, — all this you know. 

"Tancred d'Aubignac, having fulfilled his mission and 
placed me in safety, returned to France and moreover to our 
part of the country, the Vendee, there to fight and ' wreak 
vengeance on the Republic for Hector's death.' I never 
heard of him again. Doubtless he fell, like so many of my 
compatriots, in the bloody struggles of the Vendean war. 

" There, my dear friends," concluded Cecile, " you have 
the disastrous story of my life. It might have been so happy, 
and turned out so sad. Yoii indeed have waked me to new 
life, but you will now understand how impossible it was for 
me, after such an irreparable loss, to accept the love even of 
the man to whom I owed such a debt of gratitude. You will 
not think the less of me, I am sure." 

My poor, poor Cecile, dear sweet soul, what griefs have 
been crowded into your life! And how friendless and for- 
lorn in those days of terrible loss ! I asked her if she had no 
relatives or near friends in France with whom she might have 



88 CECILE CONTINUES HER STORY. 

sought refuge, but she answered No ; for with the exception 
of a boy cousin, Camille de Courtot, she possessed not a single 
relative of her name. 

" My father's brother," she went on to explain, " lost his 
first wife, Camille's mother, and afterwards married a Dutch 
lady, a Mademoiselle de Taets, who, at my uncle's death, set- 
tled with Camille in Brussels. I do not know her, but, from 
all accounts, she has been a good mother to Camille. He 
must be about eighteen now, and I trust he will one day do 
honour to our ancient name. 

" I had plenty of good friends and acquaintances, of 
course," she continued, " but the question was where to seek 
them. My native province, the Vendee, was in open revolt 
and my friends in Paris scattered to the four winds. The 
most intimate among them were the Marquise de Montesson 
and the Duchess Edmee de Brankas, but I had utterly lost 
sight of both. The Marquise, whose maiden name was Char- 
lotte Beraud de la Haye de Rion, was morganatically married 
to Duke Louis d'Orleans. As a child I had often visited her 
at her chateau of Mont Rose in the Champagne, and later 
on, too, in Paris, where she lived after her husband's death, 
and she had been quite like a mother to me. But Edmee 
stood nearer to me as being more of my own age, and gladly 
would I have fled to her, but where was she? — I had not the 
most remote idea. Therefore I set all my hopes on getting 
away from this land where murder stalked openly in the noon- 
day. 

" And see how infinitely better it all turned out for me 
than I ever dreamed ! And to you, my dear ones, I owe it 
all. You have brought me back to life, have raised my 
broken spirit which was well-nigh crushed by the terrible ex- 



CECILE'S GRATITUDE. ^9 

periences I have endured; you have restored my faith in 
human nature and led me to feel, as I never thought I could 
again, that life was worth living. Never can I forget your 
love and kindness — no, not as long as I live! " 

Saying which Cecile cast herself sobbing into my arms, 
and I pressed the dear girl fondly to my heart, feeling that the 
full knowledge of her dreadful trials and suflferings only made 
me love her the more. 

This has indeed been a memorable, a never-to-be-forgot- 
ten day to me! 



CHAPTER Vlli. 

THE YEARS I79S AND 1796. 

The winter slipped peacefully away for the Alvenslebens 
knd their friend Cecile, and the diary scarcely makes mention of 
anything but a visit from or to relations or friends. On the other 
hand, the descriptions of the quiet doings and unruffled hap- 
piness of their home life are all the more frequent, and the 
two ladies were soon like sisters. Little Phillinchen grew 
apace and was brought up and doubtless spoiled by both 
ladies — indeed there are not a few sentences in the diary at 
this period, such as " Cecile is spoiling the child," or *' Phil- 
linchen always wants to go to her," which would seem to 
point to a slight jealousy between them on that tender sub- 
ject. 

In the spring of the following year the long discussed 
plan of a visit to Berlin for the purpose of disposing of Cecile's 
jewels was carried out, an invitation from Werner's cousin 
Philipp von Alvensleben-Erxleben, who occupied a high ofifi- 
cial position in Berlin, affording a suitable opportunity. At 
first, apparently, all three were to have gone, but as Anna- 
Hebe nursed her baby herself this plan had to be deferred 
till a later day. Accordingly, towards the end of February, 
my great-grandfather set out for Berlin, taking Cecile's jewels 
with him, and, on his arrival, despatched the following letter 
to his wife: 

90 



WERNEk's First letter from^ Berlin. 91 

Berlin, March s, 1795, 
Schinkenplatz ii. 

I cannot let this first day of my arrival here pass, my dear- 
est heart, without sending- you tidings of my journey, though 
you must surely have felt how my every thought was with 
you as yours are with me — in heart we are ever together. — 
But how strange it seems to be without you, now for the first 
time since we were made one! I miss you at every turn; I 
find myself constantly deferring to your advice and judgment; 
in truth, you are for ever with me, though separated by many 
a weary mile. And I long most impatiently for news of you, 
which, God willing, I trust may only be good. — I made the 
journey here in fairly good time, spending the first midday 
and afternoon at Liideritz, and only taking the road again 
early in the evening. Ludolf and Sophie were both at home 
and send you their love. For the rest, it was not over-enjoy- 
able there. The two disagree perpetually, so that I almost 
fear it will come to a separation. Sophie will have her own 
way in everything regardless of her husband's wishes. With 
her tribe of children (there are eight of them now, or rather 
nine, counting the nephew Friedrich Wilhelm Philipp) she 
is on the best of terms; only with Ludolf she cannot get 
on at all. God grant things may yet improve with them! — 
I afterwards paid a flying visit to Schonhausen. They were 
all at home, including the new Herr Lieutenant, the nephew, 
and all send you affectionate greetings. — Then, by way of 
Rathenow and Nauen, I arrived here safely yesterday after- 
noon, and received a most hearty welcome from Cousin 
Philipp. He declares that he cannot let me go again under 
a week, as he is determined to show me Bedin and its so- 
ciety thoroughly now that I am once here. But I am not 



92 THE YEARS 1795 AND 1796. 

sure that I can hold out so long before returning to you, my 
dearest soul. 

Philipp occupies a most important — almost, I may say, 
all-powerful position here. He and Schulenberg-Kehnert are 
Count Herzberg's, the Prime Minister's, official colleagues, 
without whom he may not decide anything. Why the decrepit 
old man is not entirely set aside is difficult to understand. I 
fancy it is out of consideration for Austria. It would not sur- 
prise me if Philipp were one day Minister himself. In any 
case, he is making a brilliant career. 

I went first thing to-day to the Court jeweller Ephraim, 
15 Unter den Linden, about the jewels. He said he would first 
examine the stones carefully and then make an offer. When 
I asked for a rough estimate of their value, he said five to six 
thousand thalers — we hardly expected so much, did we? On 
the other hand, my news regarding Cecile's French rentes is 
not so inspiriting. The banker Levy strongly advises against 
trying to sell out. He says it is the enormous issue of Assignats 
by the Republic which has so depreciated the value of French 
scrip, and that there is no knowing what may happen later 
on. Please tell Cecile this. It is fortunate for her that the 
sale of the jewels will repair this loss to her. I will-invest the 
sum in good Prussian bonds. 

We sat up late last night listening to Philipp's extraordi- 
nary stories of the Court and the society of the capital, the 
most astounding of all being that Madame Pompadour (the 
Lichtenau, you know) had been created a Countess with the 
addition of four ancestors on each side of the house! What 
do you think of that? Imagine, if you please, her father. Mon- 
sieur the Trumpet-Major Enke, as a Count thus late in the 



BERLIN GOSSIP. 93 

day ! Isn't it enough to make one laugh, though perhaps tears 
would be more in place ? 

They say the King is very ill and that consequently the 
Rietz will shortly return from Italy, where she was evidently 
received with almost royal honours. She holds complete sway 
here just as before. 

There are many refugees living both here and at Potsdam. 
The Marquise de Navaillac, about whom I enquired, is ap- 
parently still here. Philipp tells me that these French people 
have great influence with the Rietz and are therefore much 
sought after here; he mentioned the following names : Colonel 
de Dampmartin, Gentleman-in-waiting to Count von der Mark 
(Frau von Rietz's son) ; further, the Chevalier Saint-Paterne, 
nicknamed " chambellan des coulisses." Then there is a Mon- 
sieur de Chappuis de la Combay, tutor to the young Count 
von der Mark, and his sister, Mademoiselle de Chappuis, com- 
panion to Frau von Rietz. Philipp mentioned besides the 
Baroness Denis, Prince Maurice de Broglio, the Abbe d'An- 
delard. Chevalier Saint- Ygnon, and several more. 

Maybe that our Cecile knows some of these names, but 
they are on the whole a rather dubious set — I do not include 
the Marquise de ISTavaillac — attracted here most probably by 
the Rietz and her following. 

Berlin, March 6, 1795. 

I was interrupted In my yesterday's letter to you, dearest, 
by Philipp, who came to take me to the theatre. I found it 
very hard to break off in my pleasant task, but it was 
well worth it, and I only regretted that you were not at my 
side to enjoy the beauty and entertainment with me. Mara 
gave a concert in the theatre. I can only say that it was mag- 



94 THE YEARS 1795 AND 1796. 

nificent and would have been finer still had not the orchestra — 
with whom the capricious diva had been on a strained footing 
from the first — been decidedly out of temper and therefore 
played very coldly throughout. Nevertheless, the incom- 
parable singer scored a complete triumph. Everybody was 
lost in delight and amazement at this Ninon of the world of 
song who, even compared with the most renowned singers of 
her time, is as a giant among dwarfs. Besides being enrap- 
tured by her beautiful voice, I was much interested in the other 
occupant of our loge, a very pleasant-looking lady, whose 
snow-white hair contrasted strikingly with her dark eyes and 
still youthful features, and who occupied the seat immediately 
in front of me. Who do you think it proved to be ? Why, no 
other than the Marquise de Navaillac! You may imagine my 
pleasurable surprise on hearing the name, and I at once 
begged Philipp to present me. 

We immediately fell into the most friendly conversation, 
and when I presently mentioned Baroness Cecile the lady was 
overjoyed. She insisted on my telling her all I knew of Cecile's 
fate, how long she had been with us — everything. She had 
long since accounted her dead. In Cecile's interest I then en- 
quired about other personages whom our friend had men- 
tioned as being her intimates. The Duchess Edmee, said the 
Marquise, had long since returned to Paris and, through the 
influence of the all-powerful Barras, regained possession of 
her estates. The Marquise de Montesson seems likewise to 
have returned, so the Bishop of Clermont, who lives in Gotha, 
had written. We were so deeply engaged in conversation that 
even after the close of the concert we remained together for 
some time in the foyer. I gathered all the news I could for 
Cecile's benefit, and shall have more to tell her when we 



WERNER'S SECOND LETTER FROM BERLIN. 95 

meet. The Marquise finally expressed the hope of seeing you 
and Cecile here before very long and begged me to convey her 
affectionate greetings to her compatriote in the mean time. 

And now, dear heart, good night and pleasant dreams to 
you, my dearest, sweetest wife. 

To all Eternity, 

Your Werner. 

WERNER'S SECOND LETTER FROM BERLIN. 

Berlin, March 9, 1795. 

Let me hasten, my precious Annaliebe, to tell you how 
more than happy I was to receive your sweet letter. It is a 
pleasure fraught with pain to assure you ever afresh that the 
separation from my beloved wife becomes daily more unen- 
durable to me. My business here need not detain me much 
longer, however, and I shall make all haste back to you. Mat- 
ters are progressing favourably with respect to Cecile's jewels. 
The jeweller Harnisch offers 6000 thalers for them. Let me 
have a little line from you, dearest, by return to say if this ar- 
rangement is agreeable to Cecile. 

I met a number of our relatives and friends since my first 
letter to you; fat cousin George of the mounted gendarmes 
begged to be specially remembered to you. 

From all I hear, society, and especially that connected with 
the Court, is in a sorry state, and I am heartily glad that we 
are not obliged to live in it. I confess I should never have 
deemed it possible that morality could be so lightly thought of 
as is here the case, even in the highest grades of society. How 
you, sweet soul, would shine among these women! Do you 
remember Briest once telling us of the prophecy Frederick the 
Great is said to have made to Count Floym? 



96 THE YEARS 1795 AND 1796. 

" There will be gay doings at Court after my death. My 
nephew will squander my treasure and let the army deterio- 
rate. Women will have all the power in their hands and the 
State will go to rack and ruin ! " 

If the last clause is, I trust, an exaggeration, the rest has 
certainly come true. I can say to you in confidence that the 
stories I hear on every hand are positively dreadful ! You 
have no conception what all these women cost. Then the left- 
hand marriages of the King alone set at naught all moral law. 
And what shall be said of a pastor who, taking Luther's 
toleration of the Hessian Frederick's twofold marriages for a 
precedent, solemnizes such a union ! How will it react upon 
the masses? In truth the state of things is infinitely worse 
than that which undermined the throne of France. And 
withal such lauding to the skies, such cringing and accom- 
modation to the Royal fancies! It is quite beyond my com- 
prehension. The Countess Sophie Donhofif is, to my mind, 
the best of the lot; not but what it is a crying shame that 
her illustrious family should, out of pure greed, have given 
their consent to this soi-disant marriage. She, at least, had 
the courage to tell the King the unvarnished truth for once. 
You remember Rauchhaupt told us the story, how she wrote 
to the King at the beginning of the Rhine campaign : " I 
will have nothing further to do with you, if you so lightly 
undertake so weighty an enterprise. To start on such a war 
in a manner befitting your position you should be at the head 
of at least 300,000 men. With the handful you have, you 
merely risk your life and jeopardise your honour." Those were 
her very words — so several people here have told me ; in- 
deed, they say that on his return from the war the Countess 
called her royal spouse a Don Quixote. Imagine the effect 



DESCRIPTION OF THE CROWN PRINCESS. 97 

of such words on such a King, who has always been sur- 
rounded by Hckspittles and fawning sycophants! He repu- 
diated the courageous woman and now she Hves in Anger- 
miinde, but, it is said, much prefers to be there in retirement 
to hving in greater splendour at Court, where she had to play 
second fiddle to Madame Rietz. 

Philipp gave me these details on our meeting the Don- 
hof¥s' two children in a royal carriage. They have been taken 
away from the poor mother and brought up under the eye 
of the Countess Lichtenau in Potsdam. They bear the title 
of Count and Countess Brandenburg. All these things are 
surely an outrage on the moral sense of the worthy burgher 
classes ! 

Yet out of the very heart of this slough of wickedness the 
conjugal happiness of the Crown Prince and his lovely con- 
sort and the high moral tone of their Court stand forth 
like an island of purity and honour. I had an excellent 
opportunity of observing the handsome couple last eve- 
ning at the theatre, where they gave " Don Giovanni " 
with Wollner in the title role. I am bound to confess that 
I did not see much of the opera, my whole attention being 
concentrated on the beautiful Crown Princess Luise and her 
husband, who, instead of occupying the Royal box, were in a 
smaller one near the stage, so that I had a full view of them. 
Oh, Annaliebe, she is like a denizen of another sphere! With 
her great blue eyes, the exquisite oval of her face, the per- 
fect grace of her figure, she is a very pearl among women! 
No wonder the whole world seems enthralled by her. Would 
that I could paint her for you just as I saw her in all her 
radiant beauty, her fair white arm leaning upon the velvet 
cushion of the loge. She wore — and this will interest you two 



98 THE YEARS 1795 AND 1796. 

more particularly — a white muslin gown, with a little posy 
of violets fastened at her bosom, and a kind of turban of silver- 
spangled crepe on her wonderful blonde hair. Round her 
throat was draped a curious filmy scarf like a veil of delicate 
white lace. Philipp explained to me that soon after her ar- 
rival in Berlin her Royal Highness had suffered from a slight 
swelling in the neck and took to wearing this scarf in order 
to hide it. The scar has long since disappeared, but she re- 
tained the habit of wearing the scarf and, strange to say, the 
ladies have adopted it as a settled fashion and all go about 
now with their neck thus enveloped. 

You will see from this, sweetheart, how keen must have 
been my scrutiny of her beautiful Highness. Nevertheless, 
I have no desire to see you follow this fashion and so deprive 
me of the pleasing sight of your fair white neck. 

In attendance on the Crown Princess were Frau von Voss, 
the first Lady-in-waiting, and two maids of honour, Fraulein 
von Viereck and Fraulein von Moltke; and as Gentleman- 
in-waiting my old schoolfellow Freiherr Fritz von Schilden. 
The Crown Prince preserved a very solemn demeanour 
throughout the evening — as indeed all his tendencies appear 
to be towards a grave, not to say stern, view of life. Philipp 
describes him as an upright, simple-minded and conscientious 
man, and all the arrangements of his household on a most 
unpretentious scale. What must not the poor Prince and 
his chaste and noble-minded consort have to suffer when, 
as often happens, they are compelled by order of the King to 
attend the soirees of this Madame Pompadour! The woman 
has actually received the whole Court in her own apartments. 
It must be a bitter indignity for the Crown Prince to see 



BERLIN BEAUTIES. 99 

his mother and his wife compulsory guests of his father's 
mistress. 

I thought it only right and proper to wait on Frau von 
Voss as an old and valued friend of my dear mother. So I 
went there yesterday and was most cordially received. She 
then invited me to spend the evening and meet a few of her 
friends — very charming people, as I afterwards found. 
Among them was a Countess Bassewitz with two very sweet 
daughters, Agnes and Luise. A more faultless beauty you 
cannot picture to yourself; not but what I should be almost 
inclined to award the palm to her elder sister, who, though 
far inferior to her in beauty, is endued with an irrepressible 
and irresistible charm. Whether, or to what degree, the two 
sisters possess those more solid virtues which are of more 
enduring value in life than the witchery of a lovely exterior, 
I am not prepared to say. One quality, at least, they have 
in common, heaven's inestimable gift — patent in their every 
look and word — of a sunny and kindly disposition, also an 
inexhaustible fund of good humour and as much intelligence 
as any woman need have. 

I am not exaggerating — even Philipp, who hovers with 
the same calm impartiality round ancient dames and pretty 
maids-of-honour ; who is held, by those who know him, totally 
incapable of anything like sentimental enthusiasms, has a 
^uch of it here and received the news that this was the last 
Evening we should have the Flower of the Schlippenbachs 
(so they call the elder sister) in our midst with a mournful 
smile. 

At my initial visit to Frau von Voss I met the Countess 
Reventlow, who informed me that she was going with 
Madame Schulenburg to-morrow evening to the Queen's re- 



100 THE YEARS 1795 AND 1796. 

ception, where doubtless they would suffer terribly from enmii 
as usual — could I not manceuvre so that Philipp and I came 
on there after our evening with Frau von Voss? 

I took the hint and sent in my name forthwith to Madame 
la Comtesse Schulenburg, first Lady-in-waiting to her 
Majesty, and, accordingly, have just received an invitation to 
the reception. I shall therefore drive on there and have a lit- 
tle chat about it afterwards with you. 

11.30 P.M. 

There, dear heart, I have just returned from Her Majesty's 
assembles and at once proceed to give you an account of the 
same. To tell the truth I did not expect much, but in the end 
it proved more entertaining than I had anticipated. I was pre- 
sen-ted to the Queen and very graciously received. She was 
pleased to enquire as to my part in the late war, and also spoke 
of you in highly gracious terms. 

Now, I need not tell you, sweetheart, that anyone who does 
that wins my heart on the instant. She made allusion to your 
home in Westphalia and to various other matters which 
greatly surprised me. Her Majesty, whom I had never seen 
before, is tall and slender, and, despite her heavy troubles, 
well-preserved. But there are unmistakable traces of suffering 
in her gentle face infinitely touching to the feeling heart. 
Prince Ludwig, the husband of the fascinating Princess of 
Strelitz, was also there — the Princess herself, to my great 
regret, was absent on a visit to Darmstadt. Neither were the 
Crown Prince and Princess present, although they had ac- 
cepted the invitation. 

The company afterwards disposed themselves in a wide 
circle, an arrangement which, as a rule, is not conducive to 
agreeable conversation, but it proved better than I expected. 



THE ASSEMBLY AT THE PALACE. lOI 

I forget exactly how the subject of France came on the tapis, 
or who first made mention of the unfortunate Royal family, 
but presently the Queen began relating some very interesting 
stories in connection with her brother-in-law, the Czarewitch 
Paul, when, as the Comte du Nord, he was the guest of the 
Royal family in Paris, 1789. You both shall hear them from 
me later on. Then the conversation turned upon events in 
general in Paris and some one mentioned the Princess de 
Lamballe; whereupon the Marquise de Navaillac broke in, 
saying, " On that subject, Your Majesty, Baron Alvensleben 
is better informed than any of us, for the Baroness de Courtot, 
dame d'atour to the unfortunate Princess, has resided for some 
time in his house." All eyes were immediately turned upon 
me, so, at a leading question from the Queen, I was con- 
strained to give an account of Cecile's terrible experiences. 

Her Majesty listened with great interest, and was un- 
feignedly moved at the tale of Cecile's grievous troubles. She 
expressed her sympathy in feeling terms, and was pleased to 
intimate her desire to have our dear friend presented to her. 
Altogether, she showed herself sympathetic and warm-hearted 
to a degree most unusual with her. Countess Schulenburg 
affirms. 

Supper was taken at separate little tables — a fashion intro- 
duced here by a certain Count Matuscka, a Silesian — and 
chance threw several of us friends together. There were the 
two Countesses Schlippenbach, Countess Lottum, Countess 
Schulenburg, and Madame von Saldern, with Albert Schlip- 
penbach, a Herr von Langenn, Masson, Philipp, and myself. 
Albert Schlippenbach kept us all laughing, and when presently 
we were joined by the Hereditary Count Stolberg-Stolberg 
conversation grew very animated and wit and laughter reigned 



102 THE YEARS 1795 AND 1796. 

at our table to a degree not often heard within these sober 
walls, I should imagine. 

On my return here, I found your dear kind letter. Surely, 
my Annaliebe, we might be held up as exemplary corre- 
spondents, our letters follow one another without a pause! 
Thanks, dear heart, for this fresh evidence of your love. You 
write that all is well with you at home — that is the best news 
you could give me. This is my last to you from here. To- 
morrow I start for home and shall soon hold you in my arms 
again. Kiss our Phillinchen and convey my best remem- 
brances to your friend. 

Always your fondly devoted 

Werner. 

For the reader's better understanding, I may here add a 
few explanatory remarks on certain persons mentioned in the 
foregoing letters. The little nephew, Friedrich Wilhelm 
Philipp, whom my great-grandfather saw at Liideritz, mar- 
ried little Philippine von Alvensleben in 181 1 and was my 
■grandfather. His father and his uncle had cast lots for the old 
family estate of Liideritz, whereby the latter, Ludolf Daniel, 
won, my grandfather inheriting two other estates, Herzfelde 
and Schoneberg. 

The Cousin Philipp in Berlin was the Count Alvensleben- 
Erxleben, subsequently so well known as Minister of State 
under Frederick William III. 

Countess von der Mark, described as " the Lichtenau's " 
only daughter, married a Count Stolberg-Stolberg, from 
v\hom she was afterwards divorced. She then married a Herr 
von Miakowski, and, after his death, a Monsieur Thierry in 
Paris. — The son of Fraulein von Voss and Frederick William 



FAMILY DETAILS. IO3 

II. received the title of Count Ingenheim, and his son married 
the daughter of this Madame Thierry, so that the present 
hne of Ingenheim — still living at Reisewitz and Silesia — is de- 
scended from two children of Frederick William II. 

The Princess Friederike of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, men- 
tioned in the letter as the wife of Prince Ludwig of Prussia, 
married, after his death, Prince Solms-Braunfels, and later on 
tl^ Duke of Cumberland, afterwards King of Hanover. 

There is nothing worthy of special remark in my great- 
grandmother's diary for the next few months except that 
Cecile wrote a letter to her friend the Duchess Edmee in 
Paris. 

Then on November 8th Annaliebe's birthday was cele- 
brated with great rejoicing. 

On this occasion she writes: 

November g, 1793. 

Oh, great and Heavenly Father! I feel that I must fall 
upon my knees and thank Thee out of a full heart for all the 
happiness Thou hast vouchsafed to me. What a day of 
heavenly joys lies behind me! Far, far beyond my deserts 
have I been blessed! Oh, my Father, how happy hast Thou 
made Thy child — grant that I too may bring happiness to 
those I love. Teach Thou me to acknowledge my faults and 
help me to overcome them! My temper is too quick and hot; 
do Thou make me gentle and less prone to anger. 

My beloved Werner will not admit these faults of mine, 
but I know well in my heart that I possess them. Make me 
worthy of the blessings my husband showers upon me! 

And what rich gifts have poured in upon me from every 
side for my birthday! From Werner a lovely blue silk gown 



104 THE YEARS 1795 AND 1796. 

and the exquisite filigree necklace that belonged to his mother. 
Uncle Briest presented me with a wonderful bureau-forte- 
piano that looks for all the world like a secretaire, so that no- 
body guesses its melodious contents. It is just what I want, 
for the voice of my dear old spinet has grown sadly thin and 
weak. Cecile's gift pleased me beyond measure. She be- 
stowed upon me one of her most cherished relics, the beautiful 
piece of embroidery she once worked in company with the 
Princess de Lamballe, with the initials of the two friends — 
M. L. and C. — entwined together in a monogram. How sweet 
of her to have this lovely work made up as a little fire-screen 
— a thing I had long wished for. I shall always take the great- 
est care of it.* 

Dear old Aunt Kroecher and the good pastors gave me a 
beautiful vase full of flowers — indeed flowers were everywhere, 
in pots upon the table and the window-sills, in nosegays and 
wreaths — the whole air was full of their delicious freshness and 
perfume. But sweetest of all was my lovely little human blos- 
som, my darling Phillinchen, when yesterday, for the first 
time, her dewy little lips shaped themselves to say — " My 
mama." 

Oh great and merciful Father, greatly hast Thou blessed 
me. Continue these blessings to me, is my earnest prayer! 

* This fire-screen is in my possession at this moment, the costly em- 
broidery still in excellent preservation. The frame only has had to be 
renewed. It is one of my most highly prized heirlooms, — Note by the 
Editor. 



CHAPTER IX. 
THE STORY OF THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. 

The summer of 1796 passed uneventfully in Kalbe and 
the notes in the diary are few and far between. It must have 
been an extraordinarily fruitful year, for my great-grand- 
mother writes of the overflowing abundance of the harvest, 
and that her husband scarcely knew where to put it all — such 
a harvest as had not been known within the memory of the 
oldest inhabitants. Further on she says : " Werner keeps 
telling me to ask for something in commemoration of the 
splendid harvest — but what is left for me to wish for ? My 
happiness is complete and sufBcient in itself." 

The ladies were doubtless left much to their own society 
while Annaliebe's husband was thus busily employed, and ap- 
pear to have whiled away their leisure in telling one another 
stories, for into this period of the diary falls Cecile's promised 
account of the Scandal of the Diamond Necklace. 

September 21, 1796. 

It has rained all day. My dearest Werner was busily en- 
gaged at the farm since early morning, so after dinner Cecile 
proposed to while away the afternoon by fulfilling her prom- 
ise of telling me the story of the Queen's necklace. 

Accordingly we established ourselves in my cosy little 

105 



I06 THE STORY OF THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. 

room, and Cecile proceeded to relate the story which I shall 
endeavour to set down as much as possible in her own words. 

" It was in 1784, when I had been for about a year with 
the Princess de Lamballe at the Court of Versailles, that the 
afifair occurred which afterwards proved so damaging to the 
Queen's reputation, although the unfortunate lady was ab- 
solutely blameless in the matter and only learned the truth 
when it was far too late to combat the intriguers. No one 
can speak with better authority on the subject than myself, as, 
unhappily, I was implicated in the judicial enquiry that fol- 
lowed. 

" In order that you may the better understand my story 
I must go back to the year 1770, when Louis Rene, Prince 
de Rohan-Guemenee, at that time Prince-Bishop of Stras- 
burg, was sent as ambassador to the Court of Vienna to ar- 
range the preliminaries connected with the betrothal of the 
Dauphin and the Princess Marie Antoinette. 

" Despite his ecclesiastical position the great Church dig- 
nitary was a confirmed libertine and many were the stories 
in circulation of his amours and his reckless extravagance. 
His mission in Vienna naturally brought him in contact with 
the young and lovely Archduchess, and the story goes — 
though I cannot vouch for the truth of it—that he became 
so violently enamoured of her that, disregarding the object 
of his embassy, he sought by every means to win her love 
for himself. So far did his folly and his belief in his own 
irresistible qualities lead him, that he is reported to hav^ 
applied to the Pope to be relieved of his ecclesiastical charge 
and for a dispensation enabling him to marry the Arch^ 
duchess. 

" Be this as it may, he actually did make the young Prin- 



CARDINAL ROHAN. I07 

cess a violent declaration of love one day, when he was so 
unlucky as to be surprised by the Empress Maria Theresa; 
who, they say, hotly indignant at his unwarrantable boldness, 
heaped him with contumely and insisted on his immediate 
recall to Paris. It was this rejection which laid the founda- 
tion of his hatred against my poor unhappy Queen. 

" When Louis XVI. came to the throne Rohan fell into 
disfavour and was banished to Strasburg, but the good- 
natured King recalled him in a year or two and even made 
him Grand Almoner of the kingdom. The Queen, however, 
never forgave him his former presumption and invariably 
treated him with marked disdain, wounding the man's in- 
ordinate vanity to the quick ; till, blinded by the all-absorbing 
desire to win Her Majesty's regard, the Prince-Bishop al- 
lowed himself to become the tool of a band of unscrupulous 
swindlers. 

" There lived at that time in Paris a couple of adventurers, 
a ci-dcvant gendarme and his sister (though I think the re- 
lationship was more than doubtful), who called themselves 
Valois and claimed to be descended from the ancient royal 
family of that name. This worthy couple made some show of 
position, and their house was the favourite resort of those 
Illuminati who gathered round the so-called Count Cagliostro 
— otherwise Joseph Balsamo — as their prophet. 

" By some means or other. Cardinal Rohan was drawn 
into this set, with the result that he soon stood on a very 
intimate footing with the self-styled ' Countess ' Lamotte- 
Valois, whose motive herein was to persuade the Cardinal to 
introduce her at Court and so obtain acknowledgement of 
her alleged name and rank. Being himself in bad odour at 
Court, Rohan was unable to gratify this wish of hers, but 



I08 THE STORY OF THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. 

when, taking advantage one day of his tender mood, the 
Countess persistently returned to the attack, he disclosed to 
her that he loved the Queen with a consuming passion and 
would give his life to win her favour. On this avowal the 
woman seems to have based her shameless intrigue. 

" Her first step was to assure the Cardinal that she was on 
intimate terms with some of the Court ladies, mentioning me 
— who had never set eyes on her — ^in particular, and showing 
herself frequently on the stairs and in the corridors of the 
Palace at Versailles to give an appearance of truth to the 
statement. 

" It happened that just at that time the Court jewellers 
Bohemer and Bassange were offering a wonderful diamond 
necklace for sale. The Queen saw it and very much wished 
to possess it, but on learning that the price was over two mil- 
lion francs she at once abandoned the idea. 

" The Lamotte now set herself to persuading the Cardinal 
that the Queen was ardently in love with him — so Cagliostro 
had discovered in seance with his familiar spirits — and that her 
coldness was merely a cloak to hide her all too violent flame. 
Let him seize this opportunity for breaking down the barrier 
of coyness, let him lay the famous necklace at his idol's feet — ■ 
she even engaged to bring about a meeting between him and 
the Queen on some evening to be decided on later. 

" And this brings me to the crowning villainy of this gang 
of reprobates. 

"It was the 14th of July, 1784, and a marvellous summer 
evening; a well-nigh tropical atmosphere lay over the Park of 
Versailles and the Petit Trianon, where we had been taking 
tea in Her Majesty's apartments, and afterwards went out to 
breathe the freshness under the portico. Besides the Queen 



THE INTRIGUE IN THE PARK OF VERSAILLES. IO9 

there were the Princess de Lamballe, Mesdemoiselles de 
Noailles, de Laval, and myself. The stars shone in dazzling 
brilliance, but in the bosquets and the broad avenues of the 
Park the shades of evening were already deep. 

" Presently the Queen left us in order, as was her frequent 
custom, to take a little exercise before retiring. She strolled 
in the direction of one of the avenues, and we ladies remained 
beneath the portico while Mademoiselle de Laval went to fetch 
lights ; the Queen allowing no lacqueys at the Trianon. We 
then seated ourselves round a table and chatted about the 
events of the day. 

" Suddenly a shrill scream broke the stillness, and as we 
started up and ran in the direction from whence it came, the 
Queen rushed breathless towards us. When she came within 
the region of the light, we noticed that her beautiful face was 
ghastly pale and her eyes strangely fixed and glassy. My 
Princess asked in terrified solicitude if she felt ill, whereupon 
she replied, in a voice we hardly recognised, that she had just 
encountered an apparition. * An apparition ? ' we cried. ' Yes, 
I can call it by no other name,' she gasped. * A figure glided 
past me, so exactly resembling myself in every particular — 
even down to the dress I am wearing — that I could not but 
take it for my wraith (mon fantome). When, startled almost 
out of my senses, I called to the apparition, it vanished among 
the trees.' 

" Such evidences of terror on the part of our Royal mistress, 
whom we had always known as the most fearless of beings, 
alarmed us beyond measure. Snatching up the lights we 
hastened to the spot she described and thoroughly scoured the 
whole neighbourhood. Not a sign of anything could we dis- 



no THE STORY OF THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. 

cover, only Adelaide said she heard a sound as of someone 
moving through the thicket in the distance. 

" The occurrence was long the subject of conversation be- 
tween us, but it presently faded from our minds, and the Queen 
herself came at last to believe that she had been the victim of 
a delusion. We were destined to remember it in the time to 
come. 

" In the course of the subsequent trial, it transpired that 
the Lamotte had chosen that evening for the consummation of 
her vile scheme. It seems she had come across an infamous 
creature called Oliva, a Hgurante at one of the low theatres, 
who bore a most striking resemblance to the Queen. Having 
apprised the Cardinal of the promised rendezvous, she dressed 
this woman in clothes such as the Queen was in the habit of 
wearing and secreted her in a shrubbery close to the Petit 
Trianon. Here the Cardinal found her, and never doubting 
that she was Marie Antoinette, fell at her feet and clasping her 
knees declared his passion. 

" The supposed Queen then graciously raised him, em- 
braced him, and addressing him in endearing terms, expressed 
her ardent longing to possess the diamond necklace. In the 
midst of these tender passages, a warning cry came from 
Madame Lamotte, who was playing sentinel close by. Acting 
her part to the life, Oliva hurriedly slipped away, promising 
the Cardinal to meet him again the next evening. 

" The Lamotte had now brought the Cardinal to the de- 
sired point. He acquired the necklace and handed it over to 
her to give to Marie Antoinette. But no sooner had the wily 
person secured her booty than she passed it on to her brother, 
who incontinently fled with it to England, while she herself 



THE CARDINAL'S TRIAL. HI 

remained with insolent audacity in Paris, where she imagined 
herself perfectly secure from suspicion. 

" In the course of the next six months, however, the jew- 
ellers applied in vain to the Cardinal for payment, till at last, 
driven to bay, he confessed that he had bought it in the 
Queen's name, 

" The King and Queen now heard the whole story from 
the jewellers, and the indignant King at once ordered the most 
searching investigation. Thus it was that I too became im- 
plicated in the affair, and was brought before the Court as 
having received the jewels from Madame Lamotte to be given 
to the Queen. It was terrible! Happily I had no difficulty in 
establishing my innocence, for on the day mentioned by the 
vile creature I had not been in Versailles at all, but with my 
parents in Paris. The charge against me consequently fell to 
the ground; indeed, the whole nefarious plot presently came 
to light. The Lamotte was pronounced guilty, publicly 
scourged and then incarcerated in the Salpetriere. 

" Nevertheless, the Cardinal satisfied his base desire for 
revenge by saying, when he was under examination, that ' he 
might possibly have been deceived in the person of the Queen '; 
his whole demeanour at the same time being calculated to give 
both the Tribunal and the public the impression that he was 
concealing the truth to shield the Queen, and that a liaison 
actually existed between them. Accordingly he was acquitted 
— a flagrant miscarriage of justice, for he should, at least, have 
been punished for lese majeste in thus defaming the Queen. 
The King banished him, it is true, and had Cagliostro and his 
precious disciples driven from the kingdom. 

" Nevertheless, the people seized upon the various un- 
savoury details of this trial, which lasted nearly a whole year, 



112 THE STORY OF THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. 

for building up fresh accusations against the Queen. That 
evening at the Trianon played a part herein, the majority assert- 
ing that it was Marie Antoinette herself who then met the 
Cardinal, and that the story of the double was a mere fiction 
to divert suspicion from the real culprit. Unfortunately, 
colour was given to this story from the fact that Oliva was 
nowhere to be found, her friends having succeeded in getting 
her out of the country so that she should not be produced to 
give evidence at the trial. 

" This calumny therefore became a fixed idea with the 
people, and from that time forth all manner of love intrigues 
were brought against the unfortunate Queen. She was even 
accused of a liaison with her brother-in-law of Artois, despite 
the well-known fact that he was most happily married. 

" But at the bottom of all these base aspersions, as of the 
Necklace affair itself, was the vile Philippe *d'Orl cans — of that 
the Queen and we ladies were unalterably persuaded. He was 
intimately associated with Cagliostro and his band, and ini- 
tiated the entire plot to ruin the Queen's reputation, out of 
spite for her indignant rejection of his proposals. — I hold that 
man capable of any crime. 

" Here are two letters," continued Cecile, handing them to 
me, " from Marie Antoinette to her sister Marie-Christine 
of Sachsen-Teschen, wife of the Stadtholder of the Nether- 
lands, in which the Queen gives her view of the story. They 
are copies of the originals in the possession of the Marquis de 
Stainville, who vouches for their accuracy. The complete in- 
nocence of the sorely tried Royal lady is unmistakable from 
both of them. 



THE QUEEN TO HER SISTER. II3 

FIRST LETTER. 

" Chere soeur! 

" L'affaire aff reuse du collier forme toujours la conver- 
sation publique, tout le monde en parle. Tant que le cardinal 
cherche a sauver son honneur, il n'y reussira pas ; son effron- 
terie et son audace ont rencontrees trop d'obstacles, tant qu'ils 
sont supportees. 

" Votre regne m'assistera j'en suis convaincue, en faisant 
la recherche de la femme qui a joue ce role dans la scene du 
jardin et s'est refugiee chez vous. Donnez les plus severes 
ordres a cet egard, je t'en prie. Le Dauphin joue a mon cote 
avec ma fille et ils ont se portent en bonne sante; maintenant 
ils ont une querelle et me demandent, que je sois juge entre 
eux — ^je ne quitterai pas done les tribunaux! 

" Adieu, chere soeur, je t'embrasse, 

" Marie Antoinette. 

" Versailles, samedi, 1785." 

[Translation.l 

"Dear Sister: 

"The dreadful scandal of the Diamond Necklace is still 
the talk of the town, it is in everybody's mouth. Let the 
Cardinal try as he will to save his reputation, he will not 
succeed; his effrontery and hardihood have too often stum- 
bled against obstacles, no matter what support they have re- 
ceived. 

" Your government will, I am sure, assist me In the search 
for the woman who personated me in the garden scene and 
then fled into your territory. Give the strictest injunctions 
in this matter, I entreat you. 

" The Dauphin is playing beside me with his sister ; both 



114 THE STORY OF THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. 

are in good health. Now they are quarrelling and v/ant me 
to be judge between them — it seems that I am never to be 
free of the law! 

" Adieu, dear sister. I embrace you. 

" Marie Antoinette. 

" Versailles, Saturday, 1785." 



SECOND LETTER. 

" Versailles, 13 juin 1785. 

" Chere Marie Christine! 

" Je suis heureuse, chere soeur, que tu sois maintenant 
mieux informee de la chose terrible. Tu te souvenirs de I'au- 
dace et de I'effronterie de Rohan, qu'il montra a Vienne et 
de I'irreverence incroyable en passant en costume de chasse 
par une procession de Fete-Dieu; lui, le dignitaire de I'eglise. 
— Au proces il a montre la meme efifronterie. II m'a brave 
meme a presence du roi. Cet homme est d'une morale cor- 
rompue, et la Lamotte entretenait une liaison concTamnable 
avec lui. Dans toute I'affaire il y a un rets d'intrigues qui 
echappe le tribunal. Des memoires et refutations suivent les 
uns aux autres et on ne voit pas plus clair. Un accomode- 
ment raisonnable est impossible. L'infame est alle jusqu'au 
point d'afifirmer qu'il avait eu un rendezvous avec moi dans le 
jardin a Versailles et qu'il avait regu la mon consentement 
formel pour I'achat du collier. 

" L'audace de cette deposition a pousse le roi a bout et 
m'aurait rendue malade, s'il ne me fallait pas combattre et 
epargner toutes me forces, pour tenir tete a des orages tant 
cruels. Je n'ai pas encore vu les lettres de change, je les ai 



THE QUEEN'S SECOND LETTER TO HER SISTER. II5 

exigees; il sont absurdes et portent la signature mal contre- 
faite: Marie Antoinette de France. 

" Le roi, moi, monsieur de Breteuil, tout le monde se de- 
mande, comment un grand aumonier, un homme, qui autre- 
ment ne passait pour un imbecile, pouvait etre ebloui jusqu'a 
un tel degre. Aussi ne peut on pas avoir la conviction, qu'il 
soit sincere a cet egard. Je me reproche, que j'ai attribue 
trop de consideration a cette affaire. 

" Torget, qui est I'avocat du cardinal, travaille, comme on 
dit, a un memorial; c'est un homme honnete, mais il pousse 
son metier et Dieu sait, quels mensonges il nous fera accroire. 
Le charlatan Cagliostro a aussi pubHe un memoire et de 
meme un citoyen d' Arras, c'est a present le sujet de toute 
conversation. Le roi le croit impossible, que la verite ne soit 
pas decouverte. 

" Adieu, chere soeur, ton amitie est ma consolation ; j'y 
pense, que ton sang, qui roule dans mes veines est celui de 
la reine Marie Therese. Notre mere est toujours presente 
devant mes yeux tu n'apprendras rien ce qui ne serait pas 
digne d'elle. 

" Marie Antoinette." 



[Translation.'! 

"Dear Marie Christine: 

" I rejoice, my dear sister, that you are now more fully 
acquainted with the details of this abominable affair. You 
remember Rohan's presumption and effrontery that time in 
Vienna and how he had the incredible irreverence to join a 
Corpus Christi procession wearing a hunting-dress — he, a 



Il6 THE STORY OF THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. 

high dignitary of the Church ! During the trial he has dis- 
played the same brazen front, insolently defying me in pres- 
ence of the King. He is a man of thoroughly corrupt morals 
and entertained a guilty liaison with the woman Lamotte. 
Underlying the whole business is a network of intrigue which 
escapes the judges. Memorials and refutations follow on one 
another's heels, but throw no light upon the subject. Any 
reasonable adjustment of the matter is out of the question; 
the wretch has gone so far as to affirm positively that he had 
a rendezvous with me in the garden at Versailles during 
which he received my formal consent to the purchase of the 
necklace. 

" The audacity of this assertion drove the King to fury 
and would have made me ill had I not felt the urgent neces- 
sity of reserving all my strength if I were to hold my own 
against these cruel onslaughts. I had not yet seen the bills 
of exchange, so demanded their production. They are the 
clumsiest of frauds and bear the signature ' Marie Antoinette 
de France ' in a badly simulated hand. 

" The King and I, Monsieur de Breteuil — in fact every- 
body is asking how a man in his position and, for the rest, 
of no mean intelligence can have allowed himself to be so 
grossly duped. It is imposible to believe him sincere on this 
point. I regret having wasted so much consideration on this 
affair. 

" Torget, the Cardinal's advocate, is reported to be en- 
gaged on a memorial; he is an honest man, but — it is his 
business, after all, and Heaven alone knows what lies he will 
ask us to swallow. The charlatan Cagliostro, too, has pub- 
lished a memorial, as has a citizen of Arras — it is the one 
subject of conversation at present. The King deems it im- 



ANNALIEBE'S COMMENT. II7 

possible that the truth should not eventually be brought to 
light. 

"Adieu, dear sister, your friendship is my great consola- 
tion. Our mother is ever present to me, and I do not forget 
that the blood of Maria Theresa flows in your veins and in 
mine. You shall never hear anything of me unworthy the 
daughter of such a mother. 

" Marie Antoinette." 

Surely it is enough to make one shed tears to read these 
frank and single-hearted letters from the hapless victim of a 
cruel plot. What an overwhelming amount of sorrow is 
often contained in one person's life ! One cannot but wonder 
what judgment will be passed in after days on this unfor- 
tunate Queen. Will God never let the whole truth of this 
miserable intrigue be known? 

During the winter that followed, the Alvenslebens seem 
to have been well-nigh chained to the house by the cold, which 
was so severe as to preclude all possibility of visiting or receiv- 
ing even their near neighbours. Annaliebe writes in Novem- 
ber already of twenty degrees of cold, and complains of the 
badly constructed stoves which devoured whole forests of 
wood. 

It must have been about this time that Cecile carried out 
her intention of writing to her friend the Duchess Edmee in 
Paris; at least, so the following letter among my great-grand- 
mother's papers would lead one to conclude: 



Il8 THE STORY OF THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. 

" Paris, Faubourg St. Germain, 
The 3d Frimaire, Year VII. 

" My sweetest, best-beloved Cecile: 

" Words cannot express my joy and delight at receiving 
your dear letter. Why, it was as good as hearing that you had 
risen from the dead! To think that you are alive, sweetheart, 
that God has preserved you to me! I mourned you with many 
bitter tears, for, hearing no tidings of you, I had perforce come 
to the conclusion that you had fallen a victim to those 
butchers. And so you were saved and found a refuge in Prus- 
sia? Fancy, cherie, my being quite near you and never know- 
ing it! For two years I lived in Gotha with some dear kind 
people and often thought of you while there. What an endless 
pity that I had no knowledge of your whereabouts! 

*' I have been back here a year now, living in my own 
house and in possession of all my former estates. I have re- 
opened my Salons and you would stare in astonishment at the 
company that assembles there — almost ancien regime, for there 
are a good many old friends among them. 

" So you heard through the Marquise de Navaillac that it 
was through Barras I obtained restitution of my property? 
You remember Monsieur le Vicomte, a kind of cousin of 
mine? He is an extraordinary creature; a compound of un- 
utterable baseness and a few good qualities. What has he not 
been in his time! A noble by birth and related to some of the 
first families, such as the Pontave and the Castellane, he was 
in turn ofQcer, Republican, Jacobin, and at last Terrorist. And 
now having reached the summit of power, he is once more a 
Moderate — a complete weathercock, as you perceive, turning 
with every wind that blows. Decidedly his most meritorious 
action was in rendering that tiger-cat Robespierre harm- 



■ LETTER FROM THE DUCHESS EDM^E. II9 

less. He lives in the Palais de Luxembourg now, and what 
with his millions and his dazzling fetes gives much food for 
talk. He is the greatest egoist in the world. 

" A few good qualities, however, he undeniably has. He is 
faithful to old friends and has helped others besides myself. 
They say too that he is kind to his wife, a gentle, unassuming 
creature of provincial origin. He does not have her in Paris, 
bien compris, because of his numerous amours. 

" He did me good service by advancing me a sum of money 
to purchase Assignats, for the face value of which the gov- 
ernment allowed me to buy back my Palace and my estates. 
Enfin, I find myself quite comfortable here. 

" You write, chere petite, that you feel yourself quite at 
home in Germany — but do you never long to see your own 
country again? Come back to us and I will see that you too 
are reinstated in your possessions. — But you must make haste, 
for I fear me matters are going to be serious ere long. The 
misery of the people increases day by day, and I cannot think 
this Directorate can hold out much longer. 

" There is one man to whom they all look for salvation, 
and that is General Buonaparte, whose fame has doubtless 
reached you too. The millions he acquired in Italy alone pre- 
serve the State from bankruptcy. Possible that he is the Man 
of the Future, but, nevertheless, I am afraid no change of gov- 
ernment can be effected here without much bloodshed and a 
world of trouble of every description. If, therefore, sweetest, 
you cannot come at once, better stay where you are till 
the crisis is over. I will write you frequently and keep you 
au courant of events. I daresay I shall be able to give you 
more information presently of this enigmatical Corsican. I 
may as well tell you at once that I am very much interested 



120 THE STORY OF THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. 

in the valiant General, who has, as yet, been accompanied by 
the most unprecedented success in all his enterprises. 

" Answer me soon and I will write quickly in return. 
Though I may not have the joy of embracing you very soon, 
our intercourse must not be interrupted. I can only hope 
that this distressing period of indecision may soon pass. My 
compliments to your — as you tell me — so charming friend. 
Take the utmost care of yourself. Adieu, sweetheart, love me 
as I love you. 

"Always your devoted 

" Edmee." 

The correspondence between Cecile and the Duchess ap- 
pears to have been very brisk during the next year or two, for, 
although there are but two more original letters from her 
among my great-grandmother's documents, frequent allusions 
in the diary lead one to conclude that they often wrote to each 
other. These remarks bear mostly upon Bonaparte and his 
family and give the impression of having been written down 
from some account of the Baroness that Annaliebe might the 
better remember them. As they often refer to hitherto little- 
known circumstances in Napoleon's life, I will quote them as 
occasion offers. 



CHAPTER X. 
THE YEARS 1797 AND 1798. 

In the summer of 1797 we find Annaliebe and her friend 
under Uncle Briest's escort in Heligoland, whither my great- 
grandfather had sent them by the old family doctor's advice. 
Frau von Alvensleben had evidently been suffering from the 
effects of several severe colds, though she does not mention 
this, and Dr. Nikolai considered thst the sea-bathing would 
be very beneficial both to her and Cecile's nerves. Accord- 
ingly, with old Herr von Briest as courier, they set out for a 
six weeks' visit to the island, Werner being in all probability 
detained at home by the harvest. 

There was a constant interchange of letters between hus- 
band and wife, and Uncle Briest also contributes occasional 
highly original epistles. 

The visit, which appears to have done for Annaliebe all 
the good doctor hoped for, lasted till the beginning of August, 
when her husband came to conduct the party home. 

The long-promised journey to Berlin was to have taken 
place that winter, but the death of King Frederick William 
II. upset this plan, and the presentation at Court was put off 
till the following year. 

During the intervening time there is little of any moment 
to be recorded; the family pursued the even, kindly tenor of 

121 



122 THE YEARS 1797 AND 1798. 

its way and the two ladies devoted themselves to the pleasant 
task of bringing up little Phillinchen in the way she should go. 
In February of the following year came another letter from 
the Duchess: 

Paris, 10 Pluviose, 1798. 

Faubourg St. Germain. 

It is quite a long time since you heard from me, my dear- 
est Cecile. Many thanks for your delightful letter from the 
Island where you stayed with your friend. I often think of 
you and long to have you near me; but, believe me, my dear, 
you do well to stay away from Paris just now, for things are 
still very far from being settled. Within the last few months 
we had another Revolution, only this time it started from 
above instead of below. 

As I wrote you already, the financial affairs of the govern- 
ment were in a desperate condition ; in fact, nothing less than 
complete bankruptcy wa> anticipated. Then came the i8th 
Fructidor, on which day the Directory, with Barras at their 
head, put an end to the existing state of things and, assisted 
by Bonaparte and his soldiers, took the whole controlling 
power into their own hands. How that all came about I am 
not in a position to say. I only know that on the morning 
of the 19th a proclamation appeared at the street corners de- 
claring that the Directory had come upon a Royalist con- 
spiracy set in motion by Pichegru, Barthelemy, and others, all 
of whom had been arrested. 

No one seemed more delighted at this turn of aflfairs than 
Cousin Barras. When, a day or two after the coup d'etat, he 
came to see me, he rubbed his hands gleefully and said that 
now his time had come at last! — He is at the head of the 



SECOND LETTER FROM THE DUCHESS. 1 23 

government and, I suppose, the most powerful member of the 
Directory. He lives on a scale of fabulous extravagance, dis- 
playing an almost regal splendour, indeed his establishment 
is said to be considerably more costly than any of the Royal 
ones in the old days. 

General Bonaparte then left to join the Army in Italy, 
whence he returned three weeks ago with many trophies of 
his conquests. He was received with frenzied enthusiasm by 
the people, who gave a great fete in his honour at the Luxem- 
bourg and did homage to him as to a demi-god — a reception, 
in fact, that had all the signs of a counter-demonstration 
against the Directory. 

Did the great General, I wonder, come back with the in- 
tention of taking the reins of government into his own hands? 
Who shall say? It may well be, however, that he does not 
think the time is yet ripe. 

He has left Paris again now, but whether with the object 
of joining the Army in Piedmont or of going to Brest — where 
they say an army is being collected against England — I could 
not ascertain. 

You ask for more personal details of this Bonaparte. 
That, mon ange, is no easy matter, for he is so enveloped in 
mystery and legend that it would be difficult to say where 
fiction left off and truth began. I can only tell you the stories 
that are current about him latterly in our own circle to which, 
since his marriage with the widow of the Marquis de Beau- 
harnais, he now belongs to a certain extent. More than this 
I do not know myself. Of course you remember the lovely 
Creole, Josephine Tacher de la Pragerie, about whom there 
used to be a good deal of talk? She is now Madame Bona- 
parte. 



124 THE YEARS 1797 AND 1798. 

(There follows an account of Bonaparte's family history and 
his native island, offering, however, no special interest; but 
further on the Duchess relates a few incidents of his school- 
life at Brienne which may not be so generally known.) 

At Madame de Montesson's a little while ago, Baron Leon 
Laurier, who was at Brienne with Bonaparte, was telling us 
stories about him. He said he was almost the only one 
among the cadets with whom the young Corsican had frater- 
nised. Madame de Luys asked how Bonaparte came by his 
singular Christian name, whereupon Laurier told us an amus- 
ing incident in connection therewith. 

" In the course of the confirmation service the officiating 
bishop asked the young Corsican his name. ' Napoleon,' 
answers my friend with an assurance in startling contrast to 
the nervousness displayed by the rest of us. * What did you 
say?' the bishop asked again, and Bonaparte repeated im- 
patiently * Napoleon.' The bishop turned in surprise to the 
priest at his side — ' Napoleon ? There is no saint of that 
name in the calendar.' 'Parbleu!' cried the cadet, 'I dare- 
say not — it is a Corsican saint ! ' 

" We got up some fireworks one evening," resumed the 
Baron, " and some of the boys damaged Bonaparte's garden- 
plot in which he took a great pride ; then and there he rated 
them in such a tone of imperious authority that they were all 
constrained to offer humble apologies. I was standing close 
by and said in astonishment to my schoolfellow Dijon, ' Does 
he not seem born to command? ' " 

Presently Madame de Montesson asked who had first 
drawn attention to the young soldier, and Laurier answered 
that we had Barras to thank for that. It was at the siege of 
Toulon and a deputy ordered the young artillery officer to 



ANECDOTES OF BONAPARTE. 12$ 

change the position of his cannons. " Be good enough to at- 
tend to your own business as * representant/ " came the 
brusque reply, " and allow me to manage mine as artillerist. 
That battery stays where it is and I will answer with my head 
for its success!" From that hour Barras took him under 
his protection and has ever retained a great regard for Bona- 
parte, who reminds him in appearance of his friend Marat. 
It was Barras who afterwards placed him at the head of the 
Army in Italy. 

On another evening the Baron read us a copy of the gen- 
eral orders issued by Bonaparte on taking command of the 
forces in Italy. I give it you here, petite, as it seems to me 
to sum up the whole character of this remarkable man : 

Promettez-moi de m'obeir aveuglement et ej vous garan- 
tis, victoire et tresors. Cest I'union qui fait la force. Plus 
vous me respectez, plus vous vous ferez respecter. II faut une 
tete a un corps bien organise. Si vous croyez qu'il y ait par- 
moi, vous n'avez qu'a me le designer, et je serai le premier 
mis vous quelqu'un plus en etait de vous commander que 
a executer ses ordres. Dans le cas contraire soumettez-vous 
a tout et comptez sur ma reconnaissance. Persuadez bien a 
vos ofificiers, que Tobeissance a la guerre passe avant tout, 
meme avant la bravoure. 

■ N. Buonaparte, 

[Translation.} 

Promise to obey me blindly and I guarantee to you vic- 
tory and treasure. Union is strength. The more you respect 
me, the. more will you make yourselves respected. A well 



126 THE YEARS 1797 AND 1798. 

organised body requires a head. If you think there is a man 
among you better fitted to command than myself, point him 
out to me, and I shall be the first to execute his orders. If 
such be not the case, then submit to my judgment in every- 
thing and you may count on my gratitude. Instil it thor- 
oughly into your officers that in war obedience counts before 
every other quality — even before bravery. 

N. Buonaparte. 

That is now about all I have heard about the famous Gen- 
eral. Doubtless I shall be able to tell you more presently. 

But I have still to answer your questions regarding the 
Paris of to-day and more especially the reigning Modes. Do 
you know, cherie, it is really difificult to combine decency and 
fashion at the present moment? I assure you that some of the 
women leave positively nothing to the imagination. The craze 
for the so-called Neo-Greek costume, which has been in favour 
since the Revolution, demands that every line of the female 
form should be in evidence and lays stress on much that were 
better concealed. In point of fact, the mode discloses more 
than it hides. To me it is all quite disgusting. 

I enclose you one or two fashion plates from which you 
can judge of this for yourself. I daresay it will be some time 
before this style is imitated in Germany. But, sooner or later, 
your Court is certain to adopt it. They tell the most extraor- 
dinary stories here of the Prussian Court. 

The Bishop of Londonderry was at Madame de Montes- 
son's lately on his way to Italy. He told us amazing things 
of your Royal residence, and spoke enthusiastically of the 
Countess Lichtenau — he ought to be ashamed of himeslf, the 
old imbecile! The Chevalier de Saxe was there on the same 



GOSSIP. 127 

evening, and the two nearly came to blows when the Chevaher 
boasted of the lady's favour. 

Have I gossiped enough with you now, petite ? You will, I 
trust, give me as many details of yourself and your doings in 
your foreign home. Remember me to your friend with the 
singular name. I think we are on the eve of tremendous 
events. I will write as soon as there is anything fresh. How 
I wish I had you here! 

Toute a toi, 

Edme'e. 



CHAPTER XL 

EVENTS OF 1798 TO 1800. 

In the middle of 1798 the long talked of visit of the Al- 
venslebens and Cecile to Berlin at last took place. Adjutant- 
General von Kockeritz had evidently sent them an invitation 
in February which he repeated in July, and my great-grand- 
parents decided to take the opportunity of the King's birth- 
day on the 3d of August, on which date the Court went out of 
mourning, for presenting themselves to the new sovereign. 
Many Altmark families must have adopted the same plan, for 
Annaliebe remarks in her diary: " I expect there will be at 
least twenty von Alvenslebens in Berlin at the same time, not 
counting other relatives. How shall I ever remember their 
names? We are looking forward eagerly to our visit to Ber- 
lin. I have only been there twice and know very little about 
it and Cecile is much excited at the prospect of seeing some- 
thing of a foreign capital. I had quite a business to persuade 
the dear soul to make some change in her wardrobe, for of 
course she could not go to Court in the mourning garments 
she has never laid aside since she came to us. At last, how- 
ever, she yielded to my entreaties and a beautiful costume was 
procured of deep blue gauze worked with silver leaves, * a 
I'ame d'argent,' as it is called. A gold fillet will be woven in 
her hair, and I am sure she will look lovely. For myself, I was 

123 



THE ALVENSLEBENS AND CECILE AT COURT. 129 

the lucky recipient of a perfectly delicieuse robe of white silk. 
Unfortunately it is cut very low, but I have had the neck partly 
filled up with tulle. To this I wear a turban of white crepe 
spangled with silver, and trust I shall do credit to my Werner 
in this costume. Kockeritz has secured lodgings for us at the 
' Golden Ball.' How I am looking forward to it all ! " 
The diary is silent till 

August 20, 1798. 

We are at home again and I can once more devote a little 
time to my dear diary. I am still half dazed at the mass of 
new impressions that crowded in upon me and the many new 
faces I saw in the days that are just past, but I will do my 
best to write down something of it for remembrance in the 
days to come, 

(There follows here the account of their arrival in Berlin 
and the events of the first day — all of purely private interest.) 

. . . On the following day came the " Gratulationscour " 
for the King's birthday. We ladies had to assemble in the 
" Red Eagle Room " of the palace, where Countess Voss put 
both us and our dresses under rigorous examination. She de- 
clared herself not entirely satisfied with the drapery round the 
decolletage of my bodice, so I pretended to push it down a lit- 
tle but, in reality, it remained very much as it was before. The 
Countess welcomed Cecile very affably and added a few 
courteous words on her appearance and her presence there 
that day. She then beckoned to the Marquise de Navaillac, 
who was overjoyed at meeting her compatriot. It soon got 
about who Cecile was, and many of the ladies begged to be in- 
troduced. 

Our gentlemen, meanwhile, were in the " Rittersaal." The 



130 EVENTS OF 1798 TO 1800. 

" Cour " took place in the great white Saal, where the King 
and Queen were seated on crimson velvet Thrones. The gen- 
tlemen filed past first, headed by the Princes of the Blood, who 
afterwards took up a position behind Their Majesties. Then 
came the ladies, under the guidance of Countess Voss. The 
Queen wore a white robe trimmed with ermine, a necklace of 
magnificent diamonds, and on her hair, which was gathered 
into a Greek knot, a flashing diadem. Round her throat was 
the fine diaphanous scarf Werner described, from which her 
fair face rose like a lily. 

When it came to the turn of the ladies. His Majesty rose 
and stood beside the Queen with a hand on the back of her 
seat, bending his head slightly as each one curtsied. He is 
tall and thin with regular features, whose stern gravity only 
relaxed somewhat when the Queen turned to him with some 
remark. Cecile came immediately behind me, her former posi- 
tion as Lady-in-waiting entitling her to rank as a married 
woman. As she sank in a deep curtsey and the Countess men- 
tioned her name, adding — " one time Dame d'atour to the 
Princess de Lamballe," something quite unexpected occurred. 
The Queen suddenly bent forward, and taking Cecile's dear 
little face between her slender hands, she kissed her on the 
brow! In defiance of all etiquette I turned and caught the 
heartfelt words — " Ma chere, I am delighted to receive you — 
most faithful of faithful friends ! I hope to see you frequently 
here." 

Countess Voss shook her head reprovingly at this breach 
of etiquette, but the tears rose to my eyes at my sweet Queen's 
spontaneous kindness and I felt myself honoured in my friend. 

The " march past " over, Her Majesty held a " cercle " and 
had those ladies presented to her again who were here to-day 



THE KING'S BIRTHDAY. .I3I 

for the first time. It chanced that we Alvenslebens — seven of 
us in all — were standing together. While we were being pre- 
sented, and the Countess Voss again and again repeated the 
name of Alvensleben, the King came up. The Queen had just 
come to me, and as Countess Voss once more said — " Frau 
von Alvensleben " His Majesty broke in — " Half Altmark 
seems to be assembled here to-day. — Glad to see so many Al- 
venslebens — good old family." 

He nodded afifably as he spoke, though the short dis- 
jointed sentences did not sound very encouraging. But the 
Queen was all the kinder and was pleased to enquire after 
the cousins in Wissen, whom she remembered from her 
Rhineland days. She then passed on to Cecile, who was 
standing beside me, gave her her hand again and said, half 
turning to me and with that exquisite graciousness which is 
her special trait, " We hope to see both the ladies to-morrow 
evening in the Palace." 

Refreshments were then handed round and the ceremony 
was over. 

Next evening we were en petite cercle at the Palace. Be- 
sides ourselves there were only Kockeritz, Wilhelm von 
Humboldt, Count Arnim-Boitzenburg with his lovely wife and 
the immediate suite. The Royal establishment is on the sim- 
plest scale, not much better than our own. The furniture is 
quite homely, not a sign of regal splendour, whereat Cecile is 
much astonished. The souper, which was served at separate 
small tables, was also of the plainest. But an air of happy 
domesticity reigns over all, the royal couple live like simple 
private people and in perfect unity of heart. My admiration 
for our matchless Queen knows no bounds; such irresistible 
charm and tactful cordiality I have never met v/ith before. — 



132 EVENTS OF 1798 TO 1800. 

My Cecile was asked for various details of her tragic story, 
and Her Majesty could not hear enough about the Princess 
de Lamballe. Tears stood in her beautiful eyes at the ac- 
count of her terrible end. — After the sonper, Countess Voss 
read aloud a few chapters from a tale of Lafontaine, the King 
listening too with great attention. But I was not sorry to be 
seated at a considerable distance from the reader, as I knew 
the book and thought it very dull — Kockeritz's somewhat ma- 
licious whispered remarks were decidedly more entertaining. 
My poor Werner did not appear to be enjoying himself 
much. He was beside Countess Arnim, who only speaks 
English, of which he knows very little. In his escarpins and 
tie-wig my husband looked a little conspicuous, all the other 
gentlemen wearing, like the King, pantalons and boots, and 
their hair cut short " a la guillotine." 

The next day was full of bustle and fatigue — in the after- 
noon a grand family dinner at the " Preussischer Hof," at 
which all the Alvenslebens now in Berlin were present. 
Forty-two persons sat down to table and Cecile was the only 
stranger. 

On the last evening of our stay we took tea in the apart- 
ments of the Queen Dowager, but it was very stifif and dull. 
I afterwards sat alone with the Queen while most of the com- 
pany played " Boston," a form of entertainment which never 
appealed much to me. She asked after my relations and m.y 
dear home, and we chatted in quite an easy, famihar strain. 
Poor dear lady, she has had much to bear ! She is very kind- 
hearted and seemed to take quite a fancy to simple me. 

And now these days of turmoil and excitement are over. 
We have seen and done much that was interesting, but the 
best of all is to be back in my beloved home again with my 



DUCHESS EDMEE DESCRIBES TALLEYRAND. 1 33 

precious little Phillinchen beside me. Once more I say em- 
phatically : 

" Go East, go West, 
At home is best ! " 

During the succeeding months nothing occurred of any 
great moment. Now and then, however, letters must have 
come to Cecile from the Duchess, and in the middle of De- 
cember the diary gives extracts of one relating chiefly to 
the notorious Talleyrand. 

December i8th, 

Cecile read me the letter she received yesterday from the 
Duchess. It contained passages referring to the much talked 
of statesman Talleyrand which interested me greatly, as they 
give a different impression of the man from that I entertained 
hitherto. 

" You know of course " — she writes — " that the Marquis 
de Talleyrand-Perigord belongs to one of our oldest and most 
distinguished families ; nevertheless, the Marquis — ^^then 
Bishop of Autun — went over to the ' tiers etat ' during the 
Revolution and formed later on with Sieyes one of the Com- 
mittee of the ' Assemblee Constituante.' In conjunction with 
Mirabeau and others he afterwards founded the Jacobin Club. 
It was he who first proposed the sequestration of the Church 
properties and was the bitterest antagonist of the priesthood. 
It was he who celebrated Mass at the Altar of Liberty on the 
Champ de Mars and consecrated the banners of Liberty. 

" Afifairs threatening to become dangerous for the Assem- 
blee, and his letters to the King on the storming of the Tui- 
leries being discovered, he fled to America, whereupon the 



134 EVENTS OF 1798 TO 1800. 

Convention placed him on the list of emigres and confiscated 
his immense fortune. 

" After Robespierre's fall, he returned and obtained — 
through Barras' agency, I believe — the post of Minister, with 
restitution of his property. They say he is the most ter- 
rible egoist, but he certainly has an amazing influence over 
the minds of the persons with whom he comes in contact. 

" Madame de Stael, for example, is a very clever woman, 
yet he has always made her do exactly what he wanted. It 
was through her influence with Barras, they say, that he got 
this post. We always call him the Sphinx — he is so inscru- 
table. He has chosen the most extraordinary person for his 
wife, a certain Madame Grant who is said to have lived with 
him for long; a woman in every respect — birth, intelligence, 
education — infinitely beneath him. 

" This is the man then who now represents the State in 
foreign affairs — and very cleverly, too, I believe. Here in 
Paris Cousin Barras is still at the helm ; but I can assure you 
the grumbling of the people waxes louder every day. The 
financial prospects do not improve, and the great sums from 
Bonaparte's conquests in Italy have ceased to flow in. The 
Directoire is hated, and everybody judges a catastrophe of 
some kind to be imminent. Meanwhile General Bonaparte 
— whom many look upon as the Man of the Future — is piHng 
victory upon victory in Egypt, and a sort of fabulous halo is 
beginning to surround the name of this man, who already 
ranks almost as a demigod with the nation." 

These were the most interesting points in the Duchess's 
letter. 

Conversing with Cecile afterv/ards, and speculating on the 
actual fruits of this bloody revolution and what the French 



LOUIS XVI. AND FREDERICK WILLIAM III. COMPARED. 1 35 

nation had obtained in exchange for its well-meaning King, 
Cecile made a comparison which struck me forcibly and in 
which I cannot say she was altogether mistaken. 

" Louis XVL," she said, " was an honest and single 
minded man and his ideas of government were undeniably just 
and conscientious. He could not endure to see any one suffer, 
nor did he ever intentionally give offence. He was most un- 
pretentious and diffident and of so retiring a disposition as 
to be often accused of misanthropy. In society he was always 
ill at ease and lacking in self-confidence. ' Now are not all 
these the characteristic qualities of your King Frederick Wil- 
liam HI. ? ' she asked. " Indeed I would carry the similarity 
between the Royal houses still further and compare the two 
Queens with one another. I firmly believe that had not our 
Marie Antoinette been placed upon the throne as a mere child, 
she would have developed the same noble qualities that adorn 
your matchless Queen Luise. The two august Ladies have 
otherwise much in common — the same classical type of 
beauty, the same regal carriage, the same ineffable grace and 
sympathetic manner. Both love dancing and all the harmless 
pleasures of life. Under the rule of the late King you had 
much the same unprofitable condition of things as that which 
obtained under Louis XV. and the same legacy fell, in this 
respect, to the two young Royal couples. Where now lies 
the enormous difference in the results here and yonder? It 
lies chiefly in the character of your people, who are not to be 
named in the same breath with the rabble that hounded my 
poor King and Queen to their death. It hes furthermore in 
the qualities of the Hohenzollerns themselves, whose rule has 
planted loyalty so deep in the hearts of their people that it 
cannot be rooted out." 



13^ EVENTS OF 1879 TO 1800. 

In the spring of 1799 the following entry occurs in the 
diary : 

April 8, 1799. 

Darling little Phillinchen, how she grows and flourishes, 
God bless her ! She is getting to be quite a big girl now and 
is raised to the dignity of having a tutor in the person of the 
Herr " Candidatus " Vultejus. What a queer creature he is, 
to be sure ! Apparently no thought for anything outside his 
teaching and his eternal Latin. Cecile, who is so clever and 
anxious to learn everything, insists on taking lessons of him 
in this language of the savants! The Candidatus is very se- 
vere with her and it is rare fun being present at one of these 
lessons. My Phillinchen, bless her, gets on well in her studies 
with the good man. 

A day or two ago Cecile received a letter from her young 
cousin in Brussels, telling her that he had passed his exami- 
nations well last year and now wished to train for the diplo- 
matic service. He wrote further that his stepmother was in 
failing health and their pecuniary circumstances far from 
flourishing. Could Cecile not help him towards pursuing his 
career, and did she know of any means by which, like so many 
emigrants, she might move the present Government in Paris 
to the restitution of the family property? Then all would be 
well. 

It was a very nicely expressed and sensible letter, and 
Cecile of her kindness forthwith sent the young man a sum 
of money for the furtherance of his studies. And now the 
idea of regaining the family estates occupies her day and 
night. She has already written on the subject to her friend 
in Paris. 

I cannot bear even to think that I may thus perhaps lose 



ANNALIEBE FEARS TO LOSE HER FRIEND. 1 37 

my friend. No words can say what she has been to me. The 
years she has spent at my side shine with a starry radiance 
in my memory! Nor can I think it at all beneficial to her 
to plunge again into the whirlpool of the dreadful city where 
she has already endured such heavy sorrow. 

God will doubtless order all things for the best, and it is 
at least some consolation to me that the affairs of that Baby- 
lon of a Paris seem not quite so desperate as they were. 



CHAPTER XII. 
THE YEAR 1800 AND BEGINNING OF 1801. 

The year 1799 passed and a new century began. Cecile 
diligently pursued her Latin studies under the Candidatus, 
whose teaching of Phillinchen, my dear little grandmother, 
appears to have giyen the utmost satisfaction. Meanwhile 
the eyes of the v/nole world were upon France, and the events 
there caused a great stir even in this little sleepy corner of 
the Altmark. 

On October 9th, 1799, General Bonaparte returned un- 
expectedly from Egypt. The campaign against Austria in the 
preceding year had fallen out most disastrously for the Direc- 
toire, and Austria was victorious at every point. This sudden 
change in the fortune of war was viewed with astonishment 
and dismay by the French people, who were at a loss to un- 
derstand why the victors of Rivoli and Castiglione should 
now be the vanquished. Each reverse was accordingly laid 
to the charge of the Directoire; from all sides came angry 
mutterings of betrayal, and the existing government grew 
ever more obnoxious to the people. This was doubtless the 
moment Bonaparte had always foreseen. The fruit was now 
ripe to his hand — here Vv^as his cue for suddenly appearing 
upon the scene as the Deliverer of the Nation. He handed 
over the command of the Army in Egypt to Kleber and re- 

138 



BONAPARTE AS FIRST CONSUL. 139 

entered Paris on the 9th Brumaire. The people received him 
with frantic jubilation, and offers of advancement poured in 
on him from every side. 

Barras invited him to resume command in Italy, but 
Sieyes and Ducos, who carried the majority of the Council of 
the Five Hundred with them, proposed that he should over- 
throw the Government and combine with them in forming a 
new Constitution. Accordingly on the i8th Brumaire (Nov. 
9th), supported by his brother Lucian, Murat and the troops, 
who idolised him, he dissolved the Council, the Government 
was overthrown, and the executive power vested in three Con- 
suls : Sieyes, Ducos, and Bonaparte. Barras resigned and 
cheerfully withdrew with his ill-gotten millions to his coun- 
try seat. 

At the very first sitting a struggle ensued between the 
Consuls on the subject of precedence, Ducos, against Sieyes' 
wish, yielding the place to Bonaparte, because he had the 
sense to perceive that Bonaparte, Vv^ith his energetic and force- 
ful character, was more fitted to pilot the ship of state through 
these stormy waters than the cowardly and vacillating Sieyes 
who, during the recent coup d'etat, had shut himself up in his 
carriage and cautiously awaited the result on the outskirts of 
St. Cloud. 

Events followed thick and fast. On the 3d Vendemiare, 
Bonaparte, supported by the blind devotion of the Army, 
placed himself at the head of the State as First Consul with 
the privileges of a monarch, and the French nation received 
a ruler invested with supreme power. Bonaparte nominated 
ministers and generals, he filled all offices of state with his 
creatures, and the Army and the National Guard were en- 
tirely subservient to him. The other two Consuls resigned 



140 THE YEAR 1800 AND BEGINNING OF 1801. 

and were at once replaced by Cambaceres and Lebrun, men 
wholly devoted to Bonaparte. 

This new disposition of office was made known on the 
25th Nivose (Feb. 19th, 1800), and Bonaparte took up his 
residence at the Tuileries with almost regal pomp. 

His first decrees from thence excited universal astonish- 
ment. He abolished the fete in memory of the execution of 
Louis XVI. and re-established the practice of religion, after 
which he closed the " emigrant list " and called upon all 
refugees to return to France. The nation declared itself per- 
fectly satisfied with it all. Bonaparte knew exactly how to 
impress the people. His rule promised them peace and order 
and security, but above all things " gloire." For now he 
turned upon the enemies of the country. He and Moreau 
defeated the Austrians at Hochstadt, Biberach and Memmin- 
gen and annihilated their Army at Marengo. By July 28th 
an armistice — the forerunner of a conclusive peace — put an 
end to the hostilities in Germany and Italy, and the laurel- 
crowned First Consul was received on his entry into Paris 
with regal honours. In him France had obtained what she 
so urgently required — a strong hand to hold her in check, 
and besides that glory and fame enough to flatter her vanity. 

Is it to be wondered at that, as his valet Constant tells 
us in his memoirs, he should have said of this people whom 
he had set himself to govern : " Le peuple frangais est une 
bete que chacun monte a son tour," and — "la France avait 
plus besoin de moi, que moi d'elle." 



THIRD LETTER FROM THE DUCHESS. I4I 

THIRD LETTER FROM THE DUCHESS. 

Paris, 15th Messidor 1800. 

If, my dearest Cecile, you have followed in the news- 
papers the amazing course of events over here, you will do 
me the justice to acknowledge that I was a good prophetess. 
Did I not foretell all that has happened? If I date my letter 
to-day by the republican reckoning it is probably for the last 
time. France is at long last returning to her senses. Bona- 
parte, whose firm hand is now upon the reins, will soon sweep 
away all this republican foolery. 

Truly, my dear, when I look back upon the events of the 
last few years and consider the difficulties this extraordinary 
man had to overcome, I am filled with admiration and amaze- 
ment at his dauntless energy in quelling the Revolution. How 
he dominates the men he has about him! You saw that his 
first action after coming into office was to do away with the 
emigrant list? As he has begun so he will continue, and it 
will not be long before he brings in the old calendar once 
more, unless, indeed, he follows the old style and makes the 
new French era date from the first year of his reign. 

What will be the final outcome of it all, I wonder? My 
friends here look forward to the ultimate return of our be- 
loved Royal House and already imagine they see Louis 
XVIII. in the Tuileries. But I think they are deluding them- 
selves. 

Two or three evenings ago there was a soiree at Madame 
de Montesson's at which the Comte de Neufville and the Sieur 
de Dadigne, the two Bourbon agents, were present. The 
former was speaking of his recent audience (you see, the term 
has cropped up again) with the First Consul, during which 



142 THE YEAR 1800 AND BEGINNING OF 1801. 

Bonaparte had said he would forget the past and readily ac- 
cept the submission of all Legitimists if they would acknow- 
ledge him as the Head of the State, but as to placing the 
Bourbons on the throne again — that would only be possible 
over five hundred thousand bodies ! 

You may take my word for it, Cecile, that man will never 
let the reins slip from his hands. Must I say unfortunately? 
— do you expect me to beheve Louis XVIIL capable of fill- 
ing Bonaparte's present position? The favour which the 
First Consul extends to such of the nobility as have returned 
is already making itself felt. I hear almost daily from my 
friends of ofifers to re-enter the service of the State. Already 
you may see the names of some of our first families, such as 
the Montmorencys and the Montgomerys, figuring in the 
olBcial list. Some of them have obtained restitution of their 
property, and that brings me to your enquiry whether I could 
not assist you towards regaining yours. That, I am sadly 
afraid, is not in my power. For that it would be absolutely 
necessary that you should come to Paris yourself and, even 
then, it would be difificult enough. What have you — a woman 
— to ofifer the First Consul in return? And without an equi- 
valent he will do nothing. Would you consent to enter 
Madame Josephine's Household? Hardly, I fancy. You 
would do better, therefore, I think, to postpone your coming 
for a while, dearly as I should love to have you with me. Wait 
for a more favourable conjuncture of affairs. If, however, 
you would care to become First Lady-in-waiting to Madame 
Bonaparte, why then come without a moment's delay and 
you will get anything you choose to ask for. Bonaparte, you 
must know, has not hitherto been very successful in the fill- 
ing of these posts. He offered the highest appointments both 



BONAPARTE AND THE NOBILITY. I43 

in his and Madame's households to members of the old no- 
bility, but only to meet with polite refusal. All the worthy 
citoyens with the de to their names who now occupy these 
posts are drawn from the class of small landed or financial 
aristocracy. 

Only one of us, the Vicomte de Segur, has followed the 
invitation and has been created Viceprefet du Palais. But 
the old famiHes all hold aloof from him in consequence; be- 
sides, he is not actually one of us. He was only reckoned so 
because of his great-grandfather and grandfather having been 
Marechal de France. The fact is there are just a few things 
Bonaparte cannot get for glory or money. He has crossed 
the Alps and passed through the Syrian deserts, has con- 
quered lands and holds almost autocratic sway over thirty 
millions of French subjects, and yet he feels there is some- 
thing missing — to wit, that caste v/hich for a thousand years 
has ruled the land under our old Kings. Seeing those Dukes 
and Marquises, whose services he so greatly covets, slowly 
gathering again in the houses of the Faubourg Saint Germain 
he sends his agents to them with promises of gold and hon- 
ours and all their hearts may desire. But in vain. These 
nobles will have all or nothing, and the all means the Throne 
for their hereditary Rulers. That, of course, is the one thing 
he will not give them. And yet he is perfectly aware that it 
would be a gross mistake to destroy the nobility — as doubtless 
he has every desire to do — for he sees that he has need of 
them. A Monarchy without a Nobility — the link between the 
King of the People — is not conceivable. And so he waits 
and waits for the moment which shall bridge the gulf between 
him and this haughty caste. It would flatter his vanity enor- 
mously to see some of them in personal attendance on him. 



144 THE YEAR 1800 AND BEGINNING OF 1801. 

the upstart, but also he would regard that step as a proof that 
the old order of things had made way conclusively for his — 
the new. Apropos of which, his former confrere, Sieyes, is 
reported to have said to him once that he would not believe 
in the permanence of Bonaparte's rule till he saw the old no- 
bility once more in the ante-chambers of the Tuileries.* 

And that, my dear Cecile, is what this great man is look- 
ing forward to — for that this Corsican is a great man there is 
no denying. Gladly as I would welcome a descendant of our 
Royal House to the throne, I am bound to confess that God 
has endowed our present ruler with extraordinary gifts. 

For look you — in setting up this new throne of his he must 
begin at the very foundations. Nothing remained of the old 
structure, and he had no materials but his military fame. He 
must institute a new order of things and that almost without 
one necessary adjunct — no ecclesiastical sanction, no powerful 
aristocracy to support the throne, no background of family 
tradition; in short, absolutely nothing but his brilliant military 
record. 

So what does he do? He makes haste to re-establish the 
Church and the supremacy of the Pope — with a view, I should 
imagine, to demanding his sanction in the future. Next, see- 
ing that he cannot have the old, he does his best to create a 
new nobility, taking it, like Charlemagne, from among his old 

* Madame Recamier relates in her memoirs how, later on, when 
Bonaparte was Emperor and Marie Louise of Austria shared his 
throne, the Emperor whispered to " Count " Sieyes as he stood among 
the Dukes and Counts of the old regime: "Do you believe now that 
it is all over ? " To which the old diplomatist, now turned courtier, 
replied with a low bow: "Your Imperial Majesty has succeeded be- 
yond my utmost expectations." — Note by the Editor. 



BONAPATRE AND THE CHURCH. I45 

companions-in-arms. Thus he has gradually built up a new 
Court with Chief Butlers and First Lords of the Bedchamber 
and all the rest of it; he has even evolved a fresh code of Court 
Ceremonial. 

And all this he does entirely alone and unaided. But he 
thoroughly understands the nation he has to deal with. Let 
this people ever open its mouth to oppose him and he has only 
to stuff a piece of the gilded gingerbread of " la gloire " into 
it and all is well. 

Speaking of Bonaparte's re-establishment of the Church, 
the Duke de Quiche told us the other evening at the de 
Noailles' of a conversation between Girardin and the First 
Consul over the arrangements of the gorgeously appointed 
chapel in the Tuileries. Girardin ventured the opinion that 
Bonaparte ought to attend the services himself. " Possibly," 
returned the First Consul, and then added : " It is necessary 
and so I must, but in that case have the goodness to provide 
the best music that is to be procured. It keeps the people 
awake. During the past years they have entirely lost the 
habit of religious observance of any kind. The only way to 
lure them back to the churches and cathedrals is by offering 
them an attractive ceremonial." 

Girardin obeyed this command, with the result that the 
music here is absolutely unrivalled. The singers, both male 
and female, receive salaries such as no theatre can offer them, 
and the churches are crammed to the very doors. 

Madame Josephine is to be seen every Sunday kneeling in 
pious meditation on her crimson velvet prie-dieu, a diadem of 
brilliants on her hair, coiffee a la grecqne, and a trailing robe of 
pale blue velvet with short sleeves. Candles burn, the censers 
swing, and the priest stands at the altar celebrating Mass, and 



146 THE YEAR 1800 AND BEGINNING OF 1801. 

nobody remembers what a short time has elapsed since a 
frenzied Government decreed to abolish the Almighty, and the 
whole Nation bowed down and worshipped the Goddess of 
Reason! 

And, vois-tu Cecile, all this the great man has achieved 
alone, still surrounded as he is by the howling pack of Jacobins 
from whose jaws he tore the bleeding remnants of their mur- 
derous rule. They are ever prowling round him, seeking how 
they may destroy him; but he goes on his way undaunted, 
following the guidance of his Star, which has already brought 
him to the highest pinnacle of earthly fame. 

There you have a sketch of the present state of affairs in 
Paris, and any one who, like myself, has watched the course of 
events for any length of time is thankful for the stability this 
Government appears to promise. It is devoutly to be hoped 
that things will remain as they are and that no assassin's dag- 
ger may reach the phenomenal, well-nigh superhuman, man 
who now stands at the head of the nation. Monsieur my 
cousin Barras is living in splendid retirement at his Chateau of 
Pierrefitte ; very well satisfied, I expect, with his condition, for, 
between ourselves, he was terribly frightened lest they would 
take it into their heads to deprive him of the millions he had 
so industriously collected. It is a great pity you did not come 
here while he was in office; I could have done more for you 
then. However I will talk over tes affaires with our good 
friend de Montesson. She is in high favour with the First 
Consul and will be able to advise you better than I. I will 
write as soon as I hear anything to your advantage. 

Till then and always your 

Edmee. 



CECILE'S DEPARTURE. I47 

More than a year passed before another letter arrived from 
the Duchess. This time it was to say that the propitious mo- 
ment had come for Cecile's appearance in Paris, everything 
had been put in train for her reception. On September 21, 
1801, my great-grandmother writes in her diary: 

To-day has brought me sorrow to the very depths of my 
soul! I cannot, cannot believe that I am to lose my Cecile. 
And yet how can I do otherwise than approve of her plan? 
Her slender fortune will never suffice for her — I trust — long 
life and the demands her cousin makes upon it, and of course 
it is but natural that she should wish to recover what the Revo- 
lution despoiled her family of. Paris seems in a more settled 
state now. The Duchess writes she has done what she could 
to interest Madame Bonaparte for Cecile's afifairs, which 
sounds encouraging. But oh, how hard — how hard the 
parting will be to me! How shall I get on without my sweet 
friend — she who has won my whole heart during these years 
of dear companionship? How am I to fill the gap thus made 
in my life? My husband has his many outdoor occupations, 
Phillinchen grows daily less dependent on me and has her 
regular hours with her tutor, and I, till now, always had my 
Cecile to turn to — nothing occurred throughout the day that 
we did not consult over together. And now I am to let her 
go — oh, it is too hard! I can do nothing but weep. I make 
the very most of every day, every hour that is left to me. Only 
three short weeks and she will be gone, and there is so much 
to be done, to be thought of before then. Besides it is so far, 
so far to that horrible Paris. She is going by way of Cassel, 
having received an invitation to be present at the wedding of 
the Princess of Hesse. 



148 THE YEAR 1800 AND BEGINNING OF 1801. 

Cecile tries to comfort me and promises to write as often 
as possible, but what are letters compared with the spoken 
word, when heart answers to heart? Shall I ever see her 
again? A dismal foreboding whispers — no. Oh, these are 
days of bitter sorrow hastening towards me! We shall let 
Cecile have our carriage, it will be more comfortable for her 
than the stage-coach, and she can get relays of post-horses. 
We are going to accompany her as far as Magdeburg and dear 
old Uncle Briest too; he is so warmly attached to Cecile. Oh, 
I dare not think of the day when I shall clasp the dear creature 
in my arms for the last time. God be with us both! 

Cecile left on the 15th of October, 1801. The parting at 
Magdeburg was very harrowing to all of them, and even old 
Uncle Briest could hardly speak for emotion. Annaliebe 
alone accompanied her friend to the Ulrich Gate of Magde- 
burg ; then came the last embrace, the last fond kiss — a wave 
of the handkerchief out of the carriage window and the 
Baroness drove forth to meet the uncertain future. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 
FIRST LETTER. 

Cassel, October 25, 1801. 

My own darling Annaliehe: 

This will be the first of many letters to you, now that I am 
far away from the dear spot that came to be my second home. 
They shall tell you of all I see and feel and all that happens to 
me, so that, in spirit at least, we may be almost as much to- 
gether as before. 

You know, dear heart, how bitterly I felt parting from my 
beloved friends, and even at the last moment I hesitated 
whether I would not do better to cast these ambitious plans 
to the winds and remain with you in that haven of peace and 
sweet content. But the thought of Camille's future and the 
honour of our old name forced me to thrust my personal de- 
sires into the background and so with an aching heart I tore 
myself away. — For how long? — It is impossible to say. It all 
depends on the course my affairs take. 

Though correspondence is but a poor substitute for our 
delightful gossips in your cosy little boudoir, I will write as 
often as ever I can and so bring my spirit a little nearer to 
yours. In the week that has passed since our parting, at each 

149 



ISO LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

beauty of the scenery, at every fresh acquaintance I made, I 
found myself calHng upon you for an opinion, and many were 
the bitter tears I shed when I reaHsed anew that my Ufe must 
henceforth be passed apart from your dear companionship. 

I was received with the most flattering cordiahty by all the 
people — the Wulfifens, Krosigks, Alvenslebens, and so on — 
to whom you so kindly recommended me. At the Spiegels 
in Halberstadt, where I stopped the night in their beautiful 
house behind the stately Cathedral, I enjoyed a delightful sur- 
prise. They had asked a few friends to meet me, and who 
should be among them but our dear faithful old Gleim! You 
may imagine how pleased I was. The conversation turned a 
good deal upon Madame Maria Antonia von Pessima 
Branconi who is just dead. I was much interested to hear 
something of this cultivated and charming woman — the mis- 
tress, you know, of the Duke of Brunswick — because Cag- 
liostro, that arrant impostor who also played a part in the 
affair of the Queen's necklace, was a frequent visitor at Lang- 
enstein, the estate given her by the Duke, where she was fond 
of gathering round her a circle of poets and other notabilities. 
Cagliostro is said to have duped her too. I was rather sur- 
prised that the somewhat strait-laced Baroness Spiegel should 
openly associate with a recognised " maitresse en titre," but 
the Branconi was really a most interesting and exceptional 
creature, and so the worthy lady doubtless overlooked her 
past. 

I have been in Cassel two days now and the famous wed- 
ding is over. My friend Madame Schlotheim, the First Lady- 
in-Waiting, had made all the necessary arrangements for me 
and I received my card of invitation immediately on my ar- 
rival. 



THE ROYAL WEDDING AT CASSEL. I51 

Yesterday was the great day ; the Bridegroom with Prince 
Frederick and the Hereditary Prince and Princess having ar- 
rived the day before and taken up their residence in the Palace 
on the Paradeplatz. In the morning I went to look at the 
Trousseau of the Bride which was on view in one of the apart- 
ments of the palace. The dresses were displayed upon a long 
table in the middle of the room and round about stood smaller 
tables on which lay the body linen, the bridal robe, hats, 
coiffes, shoes, and various nippes. Many of the dresses were 
extremely rich and elegant; all had immensely long trains and 
separate sleeves, either of old point or embroidered muslin or 
lawn. The bridal robe, I was told, was a gift from your divine 
Queen Luise, who had chosen and had it carried out after her 
own design in Berlin. I was much struck by two other dresses, 
one a rose-coloured ball robe wrought with silver and edged 
with garlands of roses, the other a white silk tunic with a 
border of golden wheatears round the train, and the overdress 
consisting of a short chlamys formed entirely of gold fringe. 
All the dresses looked to me like more or less embroidered 
chemises or robes a la turcque. 

Among all these latest fashions I was surprised to find that 
the shoes, even down to the pantoiifflcs, had very high heels, 
for you remember Aunt Kroecher telling us, only a short time 
ago, that they were not to be worn any more as they spoilt 
the walk. 

With flat soles the gait is firmer, more assured, more self- 
reliant so to speak, and that is perhaps why the Lords of 
Creation do not approve of them and always advocate the stilt 
heel for their wives. You see, it lies in the nature of the 
stronger sex to wish to lead and support the weaker one 
(please be sure to read this passage to your Werner, and Uncle 



152 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

Briest had better hear it too), and nobody can deny that high 
heels impose a certain restraint upon a woman, making the 
man's supporting arm weH-nigh a necessity to her. The dis- 
carding of the high heel thus marks a certain form of emanci- 
pation, a breath of the new spirit of freedom, as it were, to 
Vi^hich the gentlemen are naturally averse (compris, Uncle 
Briest?). 

The Bride was described to me as a gentle and amiable 
girl of a clinging and somewhat helpless disposition — hence 
the stilted shoe. Her mother, on the contrary, being of very 
energetic and independent character, has long since thrown ofif 
these trammels. Thus, Annaliebe, is a woman's character re- 
vealed in the kind of shoe she affects. Just ask your lord and 
master which of us two ought to wear high heels. 

But to go on with my description. — From early morning 
onwards a closely packed crowd stood in the Paradeplatz, 
where I too was lodged in one of the depcndances of the Palace, 
staring steadfastly at the Princess's windows, for all the world 
seems much more interested in a bride than a bridegroom. 
The Duke of Meiningen was given a State dinner in the after- 
noon at Schloss Wilhelmshohe, but as we had plenty of time 
before then, Madame Schlotheim and I drove out to see this 
magnificent palace and its surroundings. One could wish to 
be Landgraf of Hesse if only to possess this Elysium which, 
with its marble groups, its fountains, and long vistas, reminds 
me not a little of Versailles, though its splendid outlook 
towards the Harz and the green forests of Thuringen with 
their castles and picturesque ruins in the foreground makes 
this really much finer. 

We returned about four, leaving ourselves just time to 
dress before the Court assembled at 6 o'clock, when we drove 



THE WEDDING FESTIVITIES, 1 53 

across to the Palace. The gentlemen were collected in the 
Audience Chamber, where the marriage ceremony was to take 
place, while the ladies to be presented — myself therefore 
among the number — were in a gallery adjacent to the Land- 
graf s apartments and my old friend, as Mistress of the Cere- 
monies, had the kindness to place me in the front line. 

One of the ladies, a Countess Bocholtz, if I caught the 
name rightly, was distinctly conspicuous by her antiquated 
style of dress. She wore a great fichu menteur, and instead of 
the high coiffure now in vogue, a huge blonde chignon, a la 
Dubarry of infamous memory, hanging in the nape of her 
neck, the colour of the chignon forming a ludicrous contrast 
to the lady's otherwise gray hair. 

At 7 o'clock the Landgraf, accompanied by the Prince and 
preceded by the Marechal de Cour and the rest of the Court 
dignitaries, set out to fetch the Bridegroom, while the He- 
reditary Prince and the Landgravine traversed our gallery on 
their way to the apartments of the Bride. 

As they passed between the long lines of curtseying ladies, 
the Landgravine stopped in front of me, and on Madame von 
Schlotheim mentioning my name, she drew me up to her and 
kissed me with a few gracious words about my mission to 
England that time, also referring tenderly to my beloved 
Princess. She then proceeded on her way and again there 
was the crackle and rustle of silk and rich brocade as the 
ladies sank almost to the ground at her approach. They had 
taken but little note of me up till then, but now they stared 
as if I had suddenly received a Decoration. Hardly had the 
Landgravine and her escort left the gallery, than I was be- 
sieged with congratulations on the honour accorded me. 

*' One alone amongst them offered me no empty phrases 



154 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

of courtesy and that was a young and lovely Baroness von def 
Malsburg, who had already attracted my attention because, 
in her dainty girlishness, she reminded me of Adelaide de 
Noailles. She only stood near me, gazing at me tenderly 
with her beautiful blue eyes full of tears. Almost involun- 
tarily I opened my arms and she flew to me and sank upon 
my breast while she whispered, " Oh, I have heard so many 
beautiful things of you and have loved you so much without 
knowing you ! " 

Believe me, Annaliebe, the homage of this pure unsullied 
young heart was more, far more to me than the words of the 
Princess or the stereotyped congratulations of the ladies. I 
stroked the sweet child's golden curls with a loving hand and 
kissed the dewy lips. 

Meanwhile the Bridal Procession had been conducted with 
much ceremony and blaring of trumpets to the Audience 
Chamber, whither we ladies now followed. The fair Bride 
wore the lovely robe of drap d'argcnt given her by Queen 
Luise and had a circlet of diamonds on her dark hair. Four 
charming girls, chosen from the first families of the land, bore 
her train. These Demoiselles were in white and wore wreaths 
of white roses. 

The nuptial ceremony over, there followed a grand cour 
de felicitation, the Landgrave and Landgravine being seated 
in the Throne Room, while the entire Court, headed by the 
newly wedded pair, filed past them, two and two. Oh my dear, 
I wish you could have seen the Landgrave with his stifif peri- 
wig and all his eccentricities ! You remember how Kockeritz 
used to describe him to us — if you could but have seen him 
sitting huddled up on the Throne, his head poked forward, 



CECILE LONGS TO BE AT KALBE. 1 55 

scanning with severest exactitude every button on the uni- 
forms, every fold in the dresses of the couples as they bent 
low before him ! " Le roi soleil " himself would almost have 
been put to shame. 

When, at last, it came to my turn to offer my respectful 
homage to this austere sovereign, and the Marechal de Cour 
murmured my name, adding, " Sometime Lady-in-waiting to 
the Princesse de Lamballe," I heard the nasal tones of the 
Landgrave: "Princesse de Lamballe? Qui qaf We don't 
know her ! " — My sweetest princess — so soon forgotten, and 
by this princeling! Yet I could scarce repress a smile. 

Herewith the wedding festivities were over for me, as I 
was not invited to the State dinner; so I drove back to my 
lodging. 

When Madame de Schlotheim returned in the evening we 
sat together for a long time in front of the fire, while she told 
me a number of diverting stories about the Landgrave. Un- 
fortunately I have no room in this letter to retail them to you. 

Oh, my Annaliebe, when shall we two sit together again 
by the fire in your pretty room? How delightful it was when 
the great elm trees swayed in the wind and tapped against 
the window-panes, while the wood crackled and flamed mer- 
rily on the hearth, and no human sound broke the stillness 
but Phillinchen crooning her baby songs in the next room. 
No words can describe the healing effect of that sweet peace- 
fulness upon my worn and shattered nerves. 

And all this I owe to you, my dear ones — oh, would I were 
back again at your side ! 

Farewell for to-day, my sweetest friend ; kiss Phillinchen 
from me and convey my aflfectionate greetings to your hus- 
band, to Uncle Briest and all who took such kindly pity on 



156 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

the forlorn alien. My next letter will reach you from Stras- 
burg, the next halting place on my journey. Adieu, my best 
beloved. Love me as I love you. 

Toute a toi, 

Cecile. 

In my great-grandmother's diary under the date of the 
Baroness Cecile's departure there is affixed a little work of 
art : a posy of forget-me-nots and red roses surrounded by 
a wreath of immortelles, all exquisitely painted in water- 
colours. Written underneath are the words: 

aime que j'aime, 

tu aimeras toi meme. 

Cecile. 
Kalbe, October 14, 1801. 

Touching this fond little memento and the already quoted 
letter there is the following entry in the diary : 

November 2, 1801. 

I have had to let some days pass before allowing my grief 
to find vent in my diary; I was almost afraid to put my feel- 
ings into words. My tears have not yet ceased to fllow, I miss 
my friend so terribly. When we got back from Magdeburg, 
I found this delicate little bouquet on my worktable — a last 
sweet souvenir from my Cecile. I have fixed it here to mark 
the boundary across which a new life must begin for me, be- 
reft of my soul's companion. How they all loved her ! 
Everybody clamours for news of her, and now Aunt Kroecher 
writes begging me to send Cecile's letters round for each 
of them to read. But I think we will arrange it so : when- 
ever one of these dear missives arrives I shall ask our intimate 



ANNALIEBE'S GRIEF. 1 57 

friends — the Pastors, Uncle Briest, Aunt Kroecher, and per- 
haps the Schulenbergs, to come here and I will read them 
the most interesting parts aloud. It shall be a Temple of 
Friendship, like dear old Gleim's, dedicated to Cecile. 

Dear sweet soul, how I miss you at every turn! Werner 
constantly turns round when we are alone, thinking Cecile is 
entering the room, and Phillinchen's cry is, " When is Auntie 
Cissy coming back again? " Uncle Briest seems quite lost 
without her, and as to the poor Herr Candidatus, his long sad 
face is piteous to behold. My Cecile had such a happy gift of 
treating all the trivial daily occurrences of life with grace and 
a pretty sprightly humour, so that nothing appeared dull or 
uninteresting. Ah, Cecile, you have left a gap in our lives 
which I doubt can never be filled ! 

God hold thee in His keeping, my best and sweetest of 
friends. 



CHAPTER XIV. 
SECOND LETTER. 

Strasburg, 3d Brumaire, Year X. 

You will perceive by the above dating, cherie, that I am 
now in Republican France, and I suppose one must just put 
up with the custom till it pleases Bonaparte to recall the dear 
old months from exile. Your German proverb says, " It is 
best to howl with the wolves " — eh Men, let us then, by all 
means, howl with these brave republicans! 

You cannot conceive, my Annaliebe, how utterly absurd 
these people are with their pompous affectations and their 
everlasting " citoyen and citoyenne." I feel all the time as if I 
were at a masquerade and can scarcely help laughing in their 
faces. Of course it is all the more ridiculous in a little town 
like this — I assure you it is as good as a play. Under the toga 
of their unaccustomed dignity the outline of the little German 
bourgeois is everywhere visible. They evidently consider this 
inflated demeanour a necessary part of their new role as mem- 
bers of the great French Republic. Yet I find many evidences 
of deep attachment to the old reigning house. An old lock- 
smith came the other day to mend my travelling trunk, and 
when he read the name on it tears came into the good 
creature's eyes and there was no more word of " citoyenne," I 
assure you. He at once addressed me by my title and asked 

158 



DESCRIPTION OF STRASBURG. 1 59 

with profound emotion for details of the last days of our poor 
King. And this after eight years! I was touched to the heart. 

I travelled here by way of Mainz, which city I found still 
practically in a state of siege, all the magisterial and police 
duties being performed by young French officers. The next 
morning I had a long walk round the poor bombarded town 
and my guide pointed out great rubbish heaps which had once 
been stately residences, and spoke with shuddering horror of 
the past war which cost Mainz and its neighbourhood alone 
150,000 lives. 

I proceeded on my journey and arrived here the day be- 
fore yesterday in brilliantly clear weather, putting up at the 
Hotel de I'Esprit, where they gave me a charming room over- 
looking a sort of quay and a busy bridge. 

Yesterday I viewed the sights of the town, my first 
thought being of course for the Minster, but as the weather 
was very windy and I did not wish to forego the view from the 
platform, I put oflf the visit till to-day and made my guide 
show me the town instead. 

The magnificent monument which Louis XV. erected to 
the Marechal de Saxe in the Lutheran Church of St. Thomas 
is really beautiful. The Marshal, in full armour, descends the 
steps towards the tomb, which Death opens for him with an 
imperious hand, holding an empty hour-glass before him. Be- 
hind him stands La France, who tries to hold him back — al- 
together a wonderful piece of sculpture. By a miracle this 
monument has escaped the destructive fury of the Terrorists 
and is absolutely intact. 

Otherwise the men of the Terror have simply raged here, 
one monster in particular, called Schreiber, having played 
the part of a local Robespierre. Not content with the au- 



l6o LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

thorised guillotine in the Market Place, he constructed a so- 
called " guillotine amhilante " with which he drove about the 
country, and by this means butchered thousands of people 
who might otherwise have escaped him. Finally, however, a 
like fate overtook him; they dragged the infamous wretch to 
Paris and put him to death by his favourite instrument. 

Here too the population seems in the last degree dispirited, 
and at every turn you hear groans and lamentations of " Ah, 
how different it all used to be!" Many emigrants have re- 
turned, but almost destitute. The Republic has few friends 
here outside the usual mob, and all look longingly to Paris and 
the First Consul, devoutly hoping that he will put an end to 
this state of things by placing one of the Bourbons or even 
himself on the Throne of St. Louis. 

This morning I was able to pay my visit to the venerable 
Cathedral, the most magnificent piece of architecture after 
Westminster Abbey I have ever seen. A dim mysterious light 
filtered through the splendid stained windows of the clerestory 
making a sort of magical gloom in the lofty nave. There is an 
immense stained window at the end of the chancel, and just 
as I entered the Cathedral the sun shone through it casting a 
broad band of jewelled light upon the pavement. The beauti- 
ful marble Altar, the cupola, and the famous Clock were all de- 
molished by the Jacobins, and the fragments are still lying 
about the Cathedral. 

I next mounted the 360 steps to the third platform, from 
whence I enjoyed the most superb view you can imagine, and 
I longed to have you at my side. The town lay spread out 
beneath me; further off I caught the sparkle of the Rhine and 
the bridge across to Kehl; towards the east the long range of 



THE WINDMILL TELEGRAPH. l6l 

hills and close at hand a mass of high-gabled roofs with storks' 
nests on many of them. 

From here too I could follow the line of telegraph, about 
which our good pastor read to us a while ago and, its first sta- 
tion being in the tower above me, I determined to go and 
inspect it. So I clambered up the additional 230 steps into 
the tower, and the official in charge had the goodness to ex- 
plain the matter to me. It turns out to be somewhat different 
from the account in the Aschaffenburg newspaper. There are 
42 of these windmill-like telegraph stations between Strasburg 
and Montmartre near Paris, and supposing each attendant to 
be at his appointed post, one can send a message from here to 
Paris in 45 minutes. The official was very anxious that I 
should await the answer to a message he had sent off half an 
hour before, but I did not care particularly to do so, and thank- 
ing him kindly for his trouble I made my way down the many 
steps and returned to the lower world. 

Down in the Place the guard was just being changed and 
I stopped to watch the military spectacle. But what a con- 
trast to the mounting of the guard in Berlin which we once 
watched together! The drummers — all half-grown boys — 
chased one another up and down the front, while the soldiers 
were being pushed into place. The officers wore cravats of 
every conceivable colour and the soldiers' uniforms were ill- 
fitting and, moreover, no two alike. There was no question of 
military discipline, and if one of them sneezed the rest ex- 
claimed in chorus, " a voire sante, mon brave! " 

Actual insubordination, however, is very severely pun- 
ished, so my guide informed me, and my host told me that 
for an officer to pay a visit in uniform was considered a grave 
breach of good form. Therefore, naturally, none of them wear 



1 62 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

uniform unless they are compelled, seeing that it closes the 
doors of the best society to them. However, I daresay this 
will presently be changed, since Bonaparte never appears 
otherwise than in his general's uniform. 

I was undecided whether to remain here for the New 
Year's festivities (new style!) or not, but as it began to rain 
heavily, nobody knew whether there would be any fete at all. 
So I shall proceed calmly on my way; besides, I have had 
more than enough of this republican nonsense, though I fear 
it will grow worse the nearer I get to Paris. 

My love to you and yours and our dear friends. You 
know that my thoughts are ever with you all. 
In faithful friendship 

Your Cecile. 



CHAPTER XV. 
I THIRD LETTER. 

Chalons, gth Brumatre. 

Only a day or two more, my Annaliebe, and my letters 
will be dated from Paris. Your sweet words reached me just 
before leaving Strasburg. Yes, my dearest heart, what have 
we two not had to renounce in parting from one another! 
And the written word is so poor a substitute for the perfect 
interchange of sympathy in our two hearts. How sweet of 
you to set up a little " cercle " for the reading of my letters. 
But the best part of them — my feeling for you — you must 
keep to yourself. 

Well, I shall soon be at the end of my journey — to-mor- 
row, perhaps. Nor shall I be sorry, for the weather has 
broken and it is not exactly entertaining to jolt along all day 
in the streaming rain with the carriage closed. 

I changed horses at Stiitzheim, a very pretty and well-built 

town. 'But what a lovely country Alsace is altogether, and 

the people — especially the girls in their picturesque costumes 

with the great black bows on their dark hair — amazingly 

handsome. As I neared Zabern the landscape grew yet more 

beautiful, and in the middle of the town, which belongs to 

the Bishop of Strasburg, lies the Chateau of Rohan Gue- 

163 



164 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

menee surrounded by its splendid park destroyed during the 
Revolution. I could not resist the temptation to have a peep 
at the place where my arch-enemy, the Cardinal, passed the 
years of his exile, and persuaded my postiHon to make a 
slight detour for that purpose. 

It was a mournful sight! Everything destroyed, the 
grounds laid waste ; the outer walls of the chateau still stand- 
ing, but the whole interior burned out. Nothing remained 
to testify to the glory and splendour of the ancient race with 
their haughty motto: 

roi ne puis, 
prince ne daigne, 
Rohan suis. 

Time was when all the country round, as far as the eye 
could reach, belonged to the Rohans, and where are all their 
great possessions now? Gone from them, every rood, and 
the Rohans themselves who bore the proud title of " cousin 
du roi " have dwindled down to the despicable Cardinal — the 
last of his great Hne. They tell me that he is still alive some- 
where in Germany — at Ettenheim — where, I believe, he has 
some property. 

I turned from the depressing scene and pursued my jour- 
ney through the gorgeously tinted woods to Pfalzburg, where 
I intended putting up for the night. 

I have had hard work accustoming myself once more to 
the difference in the meal times here in France — more espe- 
cially the lateness of the dinner hour — 7 o'clock. As I find 
it dull to take my meals alone in my room and It amuses me 
to listen to the conversation going on around me, I usually 
join the table d'hote. 



AT THE "VILLE DE METZ." 165 

Thus here, at the " Ville de Metz," I dined in the general 
room and was much diverted by the conversation of some 
young officers of the 426. Regiment of the Hne, at present 
quartered here, who were freely discussing " le roi Bona- 
parte." Bottles of the red " vin du pays " — not unHke Bur- 
gundy — stood about uncorked upon the table, and these " sous- 
lieutenants " drank it out of large tumblers. This may well have 
added something to their high spirits, for they abused the Re- 
public roundly, heedless of the presence of other guests, and 
made themselves extremely merry at the expense of Bona- 
parte's two colleagues, whom they were pleased to dub " the 
Shadows." Barras, too, came ofif very badly and they de- 
clared that he should have been made to disgorge his stolen 
millions. For the rest, their opinion of the Vicomte tallied 
in most respects with what Edmee wrote about him. 

Not that messieurs les lieutenants spared their idolised 
Bonaparte either, and with the calmest assurance retailed the 
most extraordinary stories of his private life. 

The name of a certain Madame Rose occurred with great 
frequency who, before making the General's acquaintance, 
had had numberless liaisons — had been the mistress of Gene- 
ral Hoche for one. In any case, they said, Bonaparte's con- 
nection with her had distinctly been an after-thought on his 
side, for he had first paid court to the wife of the deputy 
Ricord; had tried to marry a wealthy old theatre manageress, 
Madame Montarsier; had been rejected by Madame TalHen, 
and had finally fallen into the clutches of the fair Rose. I could 
not think, at first, to whom they could possibly be alluding, till 
it suddenly occurred to me that Madame Bonaparte's maiden 
name, before she married the Marquis de Beauharnais, was 
Josephine Rose Tascher de la Pagerie. Bonaparte was the 



l66 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

first to call her Josephine, that name being more to his liking 
and also, no doubt, because the lady's reputation as Rose was 
decidedly not as dewy fresh as he could have wished. 

The First Consul seems altogether to have a weakness 
for fine sounding names. Latterly, all his decrees have been 
signed Napoleon, which he evidently prefers to his surname. 

I sat half-hidden behind a great vase of flowers listening, 
I must confess, with great interest to all this gossip, and thus 
I gathered a good many details of Bonaparte's life which were 
quite new to me. 

It so happened that one of the party — a litde, wiry, black- 
eyed creature whom they called " Prezzo " — was a Corsican, 
attracted to France, no doubt, by the fame of his great com- 
patriot, and he had much to say of the Consul's home> in 
Ajaccio. He described the unpretentious little house in which 
the advocate Carlo Buonaparte used to live with his beauti- 
ful wife Laetitia who came of the family of the Counts Collato. 
Here she bore him four sons and three daughters whom the 
little officer alluded to familiarly by name. These were Giu- 
seppo, Napolione, Luciano, Luiggi, Gierolamo, and the beau- 
tiful sisters Elisa, Paolina, and Caroline. He then went on to 
speak of the vendetta which had existed between the Buona- 
parte and the Pozzo di Borgo for centuries and had claimed 
many a victim; indeed, he declared it was still in full force 
and that Napoleon had kept up a feud with the youngest Pozzo 
since boyhood. 

From all they said, I gathered that these young officers 
regarded the General himself with adoring enthusiasm but 
felt no great admiration for his family. They spoke of the 
eldest brother, Joseph, as being Inspectciir de vivres at Mar- 
seilles, where he had married a wealthy but fearfully ugly 



DETAILS OF THE BONAPARTE FAMILY. 1 6/ 

Mademoiselle Boyer; Lucian was Controlevir de fourrage at 
the little town of St. Maximin and had married the daughter 
of a rich wine-merchant called Clary, who refused a younger 
daughter — Desiree — to Napoleon on the ground that " one 
Bonaparte was quite enough in his family." 

I have no doubt that a goodly proportion of these stories 
was pure gossip and scandal, but you know that our learned 
Dr. Vultejus is fond of saying " semper aliquid hceret," and so 
it probably is in this case. Commend me, please, to my revered 
tutor and tell him that his Latin lessons will never be for- 
gotten by me. A day or tv/o ago I had a Cure for my neigh- 
bour at the table d'hote and you should have seen his 
astonished face when I suddenly joined in a Latin disputation 
he was carrying on with a confrater! 

However, to return to my gay young lieutenants — I would 
have Hstened much longer to their gossip, but as nearly all the 
other guests were gone and the stories began to be a little too 
highly spiced even for my eight and thirty years, I thought I 
had better retire from the scene. So I left the gentlemen to 
their confidences and went to my own room. 

And this is the family of the future reigning House in 
France, these are the successors of the Bourbons who ruled 
over us for a thousand years! Is the exchange worth all the 
blood that has flowed to efifect it? What, I wonder, would 
Rousseau, Diderot, and the other Apostles of Freedom say to 
this as the ultimate fruit of the Revolution which was to end 
in universal Liberie, Fraternite, Egalite? 

What would they and the crew of pamphletiers, who so be- 
smirched my poor Queen and the whole Court, who, with 
their high-sounding phrases, would have you believe they v/ere 
going to create a very Heaven on earth for us poor mortals 



1 68 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

— what would they have said to this Court of the near future, 
to this Dictatorship which Bonaparte already exercises over 
the whole nation? Surely they must have cried, " Tant de 
bruit pour cette omelette! " And what has this nation yet be- 
fore it? Possibly much glory, but, most assuredly, a servitude 
unparalleled in its history and which is even now making itself 
felt at every turn. 

I was very tired by the long drive that day and crept with 
joy into my beautiful bed, there to rest from my fatigues. 

In one respect, my dear thoughtful, industrious little Ger- 
man haiisfrau, I must say you beloved Prussians are behind 
my country people, and that is in the arrangement of your 
beds. Sweetly and comfortably as I slept on your beautiful 
home-plucked feather-bed, a French one is still better, and 
even during the years I have been away they are vastly im- 
proved. 

Now let me describe one to you and I think you will agree 
with me when you compare it with the cramped little German 
beds, and you must not be angry with me if, for once, I find 
something more to my taste here than in dear delightful old 
Kalbe. 

To begin with the beds are all very high, perhaps three or 
four feet from the floor and wide enough for two people. Two 
thick mattresses are laid one on the top of the other; there 
is a large round pillow called a " travcrsin " and on it a smaller 
soft oreiller and one or two eiderdown covers, very light and 
generally quilted with silk. The bed stands on casters and can 
be rolled into the middle of the room to be made and has a 
canopy over it. An hour before bedtime a warming-pan is 
placed in it to assure the absolute dryness of the linen. — There, 



French beds. 169 

my love, now arrange a bed like that and write me quickly how 
you like it. 

I slept profoundly and, the next morning, was in excellent 
trim to continue my journey by way of Saarbourg, reaching 
Chalons yesterday. I went to look at the beautiful Chateau 
in which my old friend the Bishop of Clermont Tonnerre — 
now, as you know, in Vienna — used to live. Both it and the 
Cathedral, one of the finest in France, were destroyed by those 
Vandals of Jacobins. My royalist host tells me that they 
actually sold the magnificent organ, a chef d'ceuvre which had 
cost over a hundred thousand francs, for two thousand! 

This, my Annaliebe, is my last halting-place before Paris. 
I think I shall have a good rest here and then do the remain- 
ing journey at one stretch. 

I find the people here terribly ugly, or has my taste 
changed in the ten years since I left France? I can only say 
that since Nancy I have not seen a single pretty face. 

My next letter, then, will be from Paris. What has the 
great city in store for me? I look forward almost with terror 
to the impressions and recollections that are bound to crowd 
in upon me there. Put yourself in my place — you know all 
I endured and all I lost there! 

Adieu for to-day, my Annaliebe, dear companion of my 
soul. — Whatever happens I shall ever be mindful of your 
loving kindness and the many words of comfort you have be- 
stowed upon me. 

Yours now and always, 

Cecile. 

With regard to the Desiree Clary to whom the Baroness 
alludes in the foregoing letter, she married General Berna- 



170 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

dotte, afterwards King of Sweden. I very much doubt if the 
version of the story told by the officers at Pfalzburg is tlie 
right one. From other sources, for instance the Memoirs 
of Barras raid those of Constant, it would rather appear that 
it was Bonaparte who forsook Desiree, though she loved him 
sincerely, in order to marry Madame Josephine, the union 
with whom promised him greater advantages. Constant tells 
us that Napoleon often reproached himself for this desertion 
and did his utmost to make it good to Madame Bernadotte 
by giving her splendid presents — Madame Recamier says the 
same — and that he showed himself so lenient to Bernadotte's 
many faults of incapacity, not to say disloyalty, because, we 
are told, of his consideration for his old love. By a strange 
ruling of History, of all the Queens by the grace of Napoleon, 
Desiree Clary, the wine-merchant's daughter, was the only 
one to retain her crown. She was the mother of the present 
reigning House of Sweden. 

As to the vendetta between the houses of Buonaparte and 
Pozzo di Borgo, it apparently exists to the present day. Not 
long ago, a descendant of Napoleon's implacable enemy 
bought up the ruins of the Royal palace of the Tuileries, which 
had been Napoleon's residence, and with them built himself 
a lordly castle overlooking Ajaccio. Carved in the stone 
above the portal stands the inscription : 

" Built to the glory of his country 
From the Ruins of the Tuileries." 

Below, in the city, stands Napoleon's statue; there the 
great Emperor's name and his glorious deeds are held in un- 
dying reverence, while the remodelled palace of the Tuileries 



THE MUTABILITY OF FATE. I71 

looks down upon it from the heights — the palace from which 
the Bonapartes were obhged to fly ; which, collapsing behind 
them, buried the Napoleonic Legend beneath its ruins. Oh, 
strange mutabihty of Fate! 



CHAPTER XVI. 

FOURTH LETTER. 

Paris, 22d Brumaire, 

Hotel Bateillere. 

Herewith, my Annaliebe, my first letter from Paris, from 
this great Babylon on which the eyes of well-nigh the whole 
world are fixed. 

The high road from Chalons here was more like the wide 
street of a faubourg than a country chaiissee; small towns, 
villas, and smiling hamlets succeeding one another along it in 
an unbroken chain. I arrived at the barriere at 5 o'clock, 
showed my passport, and with a flourish of my postilion's 
horn drove into Paris. 

The last posto to the capital is charged at double the usual 
rate; it used to be called the " poste royale," now it has no 
name, but the charge is still the same. 

How enormously a city can alter in ten years! I assure 
you that, at the first glance, I did not recognise my old Paris 
in the least. The suburbs looked quite dififerent, the streets 
are widened, and new houses and palaces have arisen on every 
side. Only when I approached the centre of the town did 
I recognise with a shudder the old familiar streets and squares, 
and the whole picture as I had seen them last rose before my 
eyes. 

172 



CECILE IN PARIS. 1 73 

You were quite right, my Annaliebe, in advising me to 
give up my idea of surprising the Duchess and rather to an- 
nounce my intended arrival. Surprises are so seldom success- 
ful and this was no exception, for when I drove up to the 
Palace I knew so well of old in the Faubourg St. Germain 
I found, to my chagrin, that its dear mistress was not there. — • 
Madame la duchesse, I was told, had gone to her estates in 
Lorraine. I was comforted by the assurance that she would 
return in a few days ; but, for the moment, I was really at a 
loss where to go. However, I soon made up my mind and 
drove on here to the Hotel grange bateillere, which I had heard 
very favourably spoken of. There are two sides to every 
question, and I was not averse in this case to have the first 
few days to myself and thus be at liberty to revisit the scenes 
of my youth undisturbed. I obtained very pleasant quarters, 
although the house was particularly full, the Russian Am- 
bassador, Prince KaHtschef, and his suite occupying the entire 
bel etage. A contingent of the garde consulaire is on duty 
down-stairs as his guard of honour, and two sentinels in high 
bearskin caps pace solemnly up and down before the hotel 
door. 

My suite of apartments consists of three rooms with a 
charming outlook on to the Boulevard. To be sure it costs 
me 50 francs a day, but everything is dreadfully dear here, 
and I must just put up with it for a few days. My other ex- 
penses are, sad to say, very high too ; my valet de place gets 
4 francs a day, and the carriage, which is absolutely indispen- 
sable, costs me 15. The fiacres, on the other hand, are very 
cheap, only 30 sous the drive, but they are not allowed to 
drive in under the hotel parte cochere, and no valet de place 
would consider it compatible with his dignity to stand behind 



174 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

one, so I am perforce obliged to use the hotel carriages. All 
the prices have risen, in fact, since I was here, a loge at the 
Theatre frangais costing 6 francs 30 sous, and one at the Italian 
Opera, Bonaparte's favourite theatre, even 2 francs more. 
Dress, too, has become quite ruinous; imagine, to give you 
one instance among many, that I had to pay 19 francs for a 
pair of silk stockings to-day ! I do not think one could live 
here under 1500 or 2000 francs a month. 

And what a change, too, in our manners and customs ! 
In my day it would have been an unheard of thing for a lady 
of position to be living alone like this in an hotel, and now 
nobody thinks twice about it; indeed, there are several quite 
young Miladies from London here in just the same circum- 
stances. 

After breakfast I take a walk through the fine boulevards 
close by and amuse myself by watching these light-hearted 
Parisians. No visible traces remain of the sea of blood and 
horror they have waded through, and you never believe this 
laughing, good-natured populace capable of the monstrous 
cruelties they committed so short a time ago. They are but 
children who repeat parrot-like what they are told. The 
fiends who once yelled death and destruction to the upper 
classes have slunk away into the dark hells from which they 
came forth, and the people have forgotten that they ever lis- 
tened to them — till the next time. 

The First Consul and the never-ending praise of his mili- 
tary genius is the theme of every discourse. His victories 
have effaced all recollection of the late defeats in Egypt. 

I sent for a list of the plays going on at present and, if 
you will believe me, they have never ceased acting during 
all these terrible years — even during the Terror — in fifteen 



AT THE THEATRE. 175 

theatres! Now there are four and twenty in all. I shall go 
to the Theatre Feydeau this evening, where " Le Comte Albert 
et sa suite " and " Palma " are being given. I am going chiefly 
to see Madame Dugazon, who now plays the part of a mother, 
and I remember her fifteen years ago as the jewie premiere. 



II P.M. 

I have just come from the theatre, my Annaliebe, and will 
finish my letter before going to rest. It was a very brilliant 
scene and the loges and parquet were filled with a gaily-dressed 
audience. Nevertheless, neither during the performance nor 
in the intervals when everybody promenaded up and down the 
salons did I see one familiar face. In these salons there are 
great bufifets filled with every kind of refreshment, and waiters 
rushed about, even into the boxes, crying, " Qui vent de ponch, 
orgeat, glaces ou sorbet? " The acting was good, but the pieces 
very dull and pointless. 

When I went into the salon after the second Act, I noticed 
a tall elegant-looking man in uniform conversing with a group 
of elderly officers. He might have been about 35 and his uni- 
form proclaimed him to be a General. The box-keeper in- 
formed me that he was General Leclerc, the brother-in-law of 
the First Consul. I was much interested to see the famous 
General, the same, you remember, who on the i8th Brumaire 
two years ago dissolved, with Murat's assistance, the Council 
of the Five Hundred at St. Cloud and by Bonaparte's orders 
shouted to his soldiers — En avant, mes grenadiers, au nom du 
General Bonaparte, le conseil Jegislatif est dissous! 

Bonaparte has really General Leclerc to thank for the suc- 
cessful issue of that coup d'etat, for things might have turned 



176 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

out very differently, and his own life hung in the balance at 
the moment. 

So I had another good look at the man with his sharply 
cut profile, great eagle nose, and flashing blue eyes who played 
so important a hand in the making of this country's history. 

However, dicrc amie, it grows late and I will finish this 
rambling epistle. It is to be hoped that Edmee will soon re- 
turn and then I can go to her. I am anxious, too, to take the 
first steps towards accomplishing my mission here. I shall 
learn from the Duchess whether to begin by paying a visit to 
Talleyrand, or what other means I had best adopt to gain an 
audience with the Consul. I look forward to it all with dread 
and shrinking, but I will face it courageously; it is my duty. 
I know that your loving thoughts and prayers go with me. 

And now good night, dear heart, I must try to get a little 
rest in spite of the noisy street outside my windows. In what 
a turmoil do I live now compared to the soothing peace which 
surrounded me in your dear home! I will write again in a day 
or two. Recall me to your good husband and all my friends. 

Ever your truest friend, 

Cecile. 

Touching General Leclerc, the Baroness must have been 
mistaken in thinking the gentleman she noticed was he, for 
the husband of Bonaparte's eldest sister was at that time in 
St. Domingo, whither the Consul had sent him with an expedi- 
tion. The Baroness especially mentions this fact in one of 
her later letters. From the description she gives, the officer 
was probably General Berthier, who was in the Chasseurs and 
was certainly in Paris at the time she writes. 



CHAPTER XVII. 
FIFTH LETTER. 

Paris, 8th Frimaire, Year X. 
Palais Brancas. 

I have been somewhat longer in writing to you again, my 
Annahebe, than I intended, but you will see by the heading 
of my letter that Edmee speedily returned and that I am now 
living with her. As you may imagine, she has occupied a great 
deal of my time, so that I had little or no leisure for writing. 
The last few days were full of interest and excitement and I 
have seen and made the acquaintance of a number of people 
on whom the eyes of all Europe are fixed. However, I will 
begin to-day by telling you about myself and my new sur- 
roundings. 

The Palais Brancas is one of the finest in the Faubourg 
and lies quite near the Seine with a beautiful park-like gar- 
den behind it full of magnificent old trees and shady avenues 
and mythological statues. My rooms, which are in the upper 
storey, are quite charming and furnished a la Louis quince. 
On one of the walls hangs the latest portrait of the Consul 
which Edmee, who, as you know, is an enthusiastic admirer 
of the great man, has put there with a view, no doubt, to ac- 
customing me to the sight of the All-powerful One! It is a 
copy of the portrait by Greuze. The face wears a totally dif- 

177 



178 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

ferent expression from any picture I have yet seen of him; 
it is not nearly so grim and stern, Edmee declares it is ex- 
actly as she saw him last at a soiree at Madame Hamelin's, a 
friend of Madame Josephine's, where he appeared with his 
step-daughter Hortense, to whom they say he is much at- 
tached. 

On the frame there is an epigram by Thevenon: 

Qui pretera jamais pour ecrire son histoire 
Une plume a Clio ? I'aile de la victoire ? 

I think you will admit that that is laying on the homage 
thickly enough ! 

When I woke the first morning the sun was shining into 
my beautiful bedroom through the green silk curtains. I 
jumped out of bed and ran to the window. All Paris seemed 
spread out before me under the cheerful rays of the morning 
sun, and the Seine was dotted with gaily flagged boats. There 
was the Pont Royal, there the Louvre, and there the Tuileries 
where HE now lives who has stepped into Louis XVL's 
place. I could see the two sentinels distinctly as they marched 
backwards and forwards in front of the palace. I leant against 
the window and gazed out at the dear familiar, never-forgotten 
scene and my eyes grew dim with tears. 

As I stood thus, lost in recollection, there was a knock at 
the door. I hurriedly slipped back into bed, and there stood 
Edmee on the threshold of my room. I had only seen her by 
lamplight on my arrival the evenmg before, and now she 
looked quite different ni the blaze of golden sunshine. 

She embraced me, then seated herself on the edge of the 
bed arid asked what had been my dreams in the first night un- 



EDMEE. 



179 



der her roof. Tears of conflicting emotions rose to my eyes 
as I looked at the dear, kindly face of my old friend. The 
years had left some footprints of course, but it was the same 
sweet bewitching face which used always to remind me of my 
darling Princess, a likeness of which Edmee had ever been 
proud; besides, she has a right to the Carignan features, being 
distantly related to that family. 

She still retains the elegant figure of earlier days, and the 
brightness of her lovely blue eyes is undimmed. Although it 
was still early she wore her hair slightly powdered and curled 
a la Marie Antoinette. Altogether her appearance, as well as 
the exquisite courtesy of her manner, are quite ancien regime. 

You can imagine, my dear, how much we had to say to one 
another after nine years ; every other sentence began with " Do 
you remember? " She told me all about her life in Gotha and 
could not hear enough in return about you and our dear 
friends. We then cam.e to Talleyrand and my proposed visit 
to him, to which Edmee urged me strongly since, despite the 
Consul's personal antipathy to him, he is very powerful. 

However, I shall have to defer the visit for some time yet, 
as he is with the Consul just now inspecting some factories 
in the neighbourhood of St. Ouentin. By the way, this jour- 
ney of Bonaparte's may result in a great change in present 

fashions, the Consul having promised the starving factory 
hands that at the approaching Peace Fete all the ladies of the 
Court and in society should be dressed in lawn or batiste from 
the St. Ouentin factories, instead of the muslin with which 
England is flooding Paris. I wonder if he will be able to keep 
his word? It remains to be seen what Josephine and her 
autocratic man-milliners Messieurs Despreaux and Leroy will 
say to it. 



l80 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

During our delightful causeries over the fire in my room 
(so like those I enjoyed with you, mon angel) during the fol- 
lowing days, Edmee and I made out a list of the families and 
persons with whom I had formerly been acquainted, and also 
of those whose influence would be of use to me now. Alas, 
against how many names had I not to put a cross ! Either 
they had been guillotined during the Terror without my 
knowing it, or were dead; or not yet returned, or come to 
grief in exile. 

Nevertheless, a goodly number remained, and so we shall 
start without delay upon our round of visits. First, however, 
Edmee wants to show me Paris as it is, and we will reserve 
the afternoons for our friends. 



gth Frimaire. — I was interrupted yesterday at this point 
and will now resume my description of my doings. 

At 12 o'clock every morning we drive out in Edmee's 
*' berline," as they call the great hooded cabriolets here, and 
make a tour of the town. 

Oh, my dear, how many things the Revolution has altered, 
but how few has it improved! The very first Place we drove 
through, the beautiful " Place Royale," built by the Due de la 
Feuillade and where the bronze statue of Louis XIV. used 
to stand was hardly recognisable. It is now called the 
" Place des victoires," and they were busy putting up a monu- 
ment which the Consul has raised to the glory of the army 
and two of its leaders — Kleber and Dessain. He laid the first 
stone of it himself a few weeks ago. 

Then we drove on and came to the " Place de la Con- 
corde " — but where was its name and the imposing equestrian 



REVISITING OLD SCENES. l8l 

Statue of the Well-Beloved Louis XV.? It has become the 
" Place de la Revolution," and in Louis' place on the pedestal 
is a dreadful rose-pink, half-naked plaster figure of " Liberty." 
And, indeed, she looks it, and is a faithful presentment of that 
misbegotten daughter of the Revolution. 

I covered my eyes with a trembling hand to shut out the 
sight of the spot where fell the head of my blameless King 
and my sweet Queen. For it was here they set up the hideous 
instrument, on one of the most lovely spots in Paris between 
the Champs Elysees and the Tuileries gardens. 

This was the place too where my own poor head would 
have rolled in the dust, but for the goodness of God and my 
lover's heroic bravery at the last moment. 

The statue of the Roi soleil on the Place de Vendome is 
also destroyed, and they have not yet decided with what 
monument to replace it.* 

And now the Place de Greve with all its memories lay 
before me. I have told you, dearest, that it was here my 
father met his death, and you can imagine with what emotion 
I viewed the spot where he laid down his noble life, a sacri- 
fice which really cost me both my parents, for it broke my 
mother's heart. 

And we forlorn survivors of those who were guillotined 
have not even a spot where we can give ourselves up to the 
cult of our fond memories, no grave that we can deck with 
flowers and water with our tears. Nothing remains to us. 

* Here, in 1805, Napoleon erected the Vendome Column cast from 
the 450 cannons taken in the battle of Austerlitz. The bas-reliefs picture 
the victories, and on the summit stands the colossal statue of the 
Emperor. The column was destroyed by the Communists in 1871 but 
has since been re-erected. i 



1 82 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

The inhuman monsters flung their victims into one common 
pit — some say in the catacombs, others in the Place de la 
Madeleine. Quicklime was thrown on the layers of corpses, 
then more bodies, then lime again, and so on till the pit was 
heaped. Whenever 1 asked any one where the victims of the 
guillotine were buried in those days, a shrug of the shoulder 
was all the answer I received. No one knew, or rather would 
not admit that they knew. It looks to me, in fact, as if the 
whole nation were ashamed to be reminded of those years of 
bestial madness. So all I can do is to pray for both my be- 
loved parents at the grave of the one, my mother, in Pere la 
Chaise. 

But imagine, Annaliebe, what a horrible story Edmee told 
me apropos of this. They say that when Robespierre's fate 
at last overtook him, his body was laid in the coffin of King 
Louis. And how do you think they justified this impious 
act? By saying that as R.obespierre had intended marrying 
the daughter of Louis Capet he belonged to the family and 
ought to share their tomb ! 

Can one imagine a greater irony of History? The execu- 
tioner and his royal victim in one grave! And to think that 
for years this grave has been the Mecca of all true and faith- 
ful adherents of the Royal House ; here they have wept bitter 
tears over the memory of the martyred King, and all the while 
the hateful monster of the Convention, the dastardly ring- 
leader of that band of ruffians, is lying in that sacred spot. 
Oh, it will not bear thinking of — nor does it seem to me 
credible that Robespierre should have dared to raise his eyes 
to our Httle Madame de France, the Princess Maria Theresa 
Charlotte, and to have conceived the idea of being the King's 
successor. He was too fanatical a Republican for that and. 



VISIT TO THE CEMETERY. 1 83 

in spite of Edmee's assurance of its truth, I look upon the 
whole story as a fiction, just as I do the report that our poor 
little Dauphin escaped out of the clutches of his tormentors 
and is still alive somewhere. 

I saw the sweet boy too often in the Temple and know 
how ill and weak he was then. I can see him now lying in 
his tiny bed that was hardly larger than a cradle. His poor 
little knees and ankles were swollen to twice their natural 
size, and death was plainly written in the glazed blue eyes. 
No, he never came out of there alive. Therefore the story 
about the King's grave is doubtless an invention too ; it would 
be too hideous an outrage upon decency. 

I begged Edmee to spare me the visit to the Temple whfch 
stood next upon our list — it was more than I could bear that 
day, so we drove instead to my dear old nurse, providing our- 
selves first with flowers and wreaths for my mother's grave 
which she was to point out to us. I found my good old 
Madeleine wonderfully hearty still, and you can imagine the 
joy of our meeting. She knew me directly and was as pleased 
as a child to hear how happily I had lived in Germany and had 
found such good friends. We took the dear old woman with 
us and drove at once to the Cemetery. The grave of my be- 
loved mother was soon found and I could not thank old 
Madeleine enough for the devoted care she had expended on 
it during all these years. Tears of sorrow, even a little of re- 
morse filled my eyes as I knelt there and prayed silently for 
both my dear ones, for I could not help thmking that I had 
perhaps absorbed myself too exclusively in my love for my 
sweet mistress, neglecting my father and mother thereby. And 
now it was too late to repair the fault. My only comfort lay 



1 84 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

in the thought that there had never been one moment's dis- 
cord between us, never an unkind look or word. 

After covering the grave with flowers we returned to the 
Palais Brancas, keeping Madeleine with us. I had, of course, 
much to tell her and' we spoke of my wonderful escape from 
death, Madeleine said that the Revolutionary Tribunal had 
been greatly alarmed by my Hector's bold expedient and had 
subsequently used the greatest precautions during the trans- 
port of prisoners through the streets. — Of the Vicomte 
d'Aubignac neither she nor Edmee had ever heard another 
word. Like my Hector he must have fallen a victim to these 
infamous butchers. 

Adieu, my dearest, for to-day. I can write no more. The 
many and varied emotions have been a great strain upon me. 
My devoted love to you and our dear mutual friends. Edmee 
begs to be remembered to you. 

Cecile. 

I enclose a copy of Robespierre's death-warrant for your 
collection of rarities. Edmee is, like you, an ardent collector 
of historical and other curiosities. It is from the Moniteur of 
the 6th Fructidor, Year H. 

DECRETS D EXECUTION. 

1. Maximilian Robespierre, age de 35 ans, ne a Arras, ex-depute du 

Convent national. 

L'accuse est attaint de vouloir mettre au trone le fils de Louis Capet 
et a trahi par ceci la patrie. II est convaincu. 

2. L. J. R. T. Lavalette, age de 40 ans, ne a Paris, ex-noble, ex-com- 

mandant de I'armee frangaise du Nord etc. etc. 
(Ici il suit les noms de: Custine, Houchard, Barnare, Baylly et 
d'autres, ensemble 12 numeros.) 



^ROBESPIERRE'S DEATH-WARRANT. 1 85 

Sont par ceci declares tous hors de la loi par decrets du Convention 

du 9 et 10 Thermidor. 
Apres qu'on eut constate leur identite, ils furent delivres au bourreau 
pour etre, mis a la mort en 24 heures a la place de la 
Revolution. 

Ont ete executes. 

Le Directoire. 
Signe: Barras, Rewbell, Lareveillere, Carnot, Sieyes. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 
SIXTH LETTER. 

Paris, isth Frimaire X. 

A thousand thanks, my Annaliebe, for your sweet deHght- 
ful letter. BeHeve me, dearest, my heart yearns for you as 
fondly as ever, and many a night I lie awake communing with 
you in spirit. — And how comforting your tender solicitude is 
to me! But you must not be anxious about me, dear heart, 
nor fear that I am putting too severe a strain upon my nerves 
by thus reviving the memory of the terrible and heart-rending 
past. Edmee does much to counteract these sad impressions. 
Besides, the worst is over; I have seen nearly all the places 
connected with my martyrdom and, the first sharp pangs over, 
it is in the nature of things that, though it never forgets, the 
heart grows calmer, and can contemplate its losses with un- 
abated sorrow but without the bitter agony of the first days. 

The day before yesterday, however, brought my whole 
tragedy before my eyes again when I visited the Temple and 
the prison of La Force. The apartments in which the Royal 
family spent their days of terrible captivity have been pulled 
down, but the great round hall past the windows of which 
they carried the head of my beloved princess is unchanged. 
Then we went down into the underground dungeons where I 
was imprisoned for many long weeks, and I had to show 

i86 



PAINFUL MEMORIES. 187 

Edmee all the well-remembered places and the little niche 
where I lay on my poor straw pallet. 

The La Force was entirely unaltered and I passed with 
streaming eyes through its gloomy cells thinking of the dear 
friends who had set out on their last journey from thence. We 
afterwards drove through the street where the tragedy of my 
life had culminated. There were the same houses that had 
passed before my eyes on that death journey, and once again 
I seemed to see the hideous faces of the crowd and hear the 
thunder of the explosion and the mad shrieks of the terrified 
mob. Here were probably the selfsame stones on which I 
had last seen my Hector's blood-stained head when he gave 
his hfe for mine. — Oh AnnaUebe, how my heart sickened with 
pain as I caught sight of the well-remembered spot! I left 
the carriage and kneeling down pressed my lips to the cold 
stone on which my Hector's head had lain, Edmee put her 
arm round me and led me away, and we drove off quickly to 
escape the gaping crowd that had begun to gather round us, 
astonished, no doubt, by my proceedings. 

Arrived at home, I found your dear letter awaiting me to 
distract me from my painful thoughts — never was letter more 
welcome. Every little detail of your family life interests and 
delights me. Ah, my Annaliebe, your tranquil but deep affec- 
tion restored the shattered balance of my life. 

And now, my best and sweetest of friends, I have told you 
all I felt and suffered in reviving the memories of the past — it 
was inevitable — but I have done ; I will neither excite myself 
nor pain you any more. My letters now shall concern them- 
selves only with the present and what happens to me day by 
day. 

In these days I have met many old friends again and we 



l88 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

have, of course, had endlessly much to say to one another. 
But oh, my dear, what sufferings many of these poor things 
have endured in foreign lands ! and have occupied the 
strangest positions to keep themselves from absolute starva- 
tion. Few, if any, among them found such faithful loving 
friends as I did. I quite believe that in your utter unselfish- 
ness you do not realise what gift you bestowed upon me. The 
fervent gratitude of a lifetime could not adequately repay 
you. Adieu, dearest, truest heart. 

Ever your own 

Cecile. 

FROM ANNALIEBE's DIARY. 

Kalbe, December 26, 1801. 

Christmas is just over, that sweetest idyll of our childish 
days whose fairy radiance shines on softly through the later 
years till it beams out brightly once more in our children's 
happy eyes. 

Oh, my Cecile, how I have missed you ! How I wish you 
had been with us yesterday and seen the children's joy. The 
Pastors' children were invited for the Christmas tree, and 
really it made one a child again to be amongst them. Phil- 
linchen's speechless delight did one good to look at. It 
seemed so strange not to set out Cecile's presents among the 
rest. 

I do hope the little gifts I sent her to far-ofif Paris arrived 
in time. To my joyful surprise I found a large parcel with 
the Paris postmark on my already heaped up Christmas table, 
and on opening it discovered the beautiful little new-fashioned 
musical instrument they call a guitar. How sweet of Cecile 



FROM ANNALIEBE'S DIARY. 1 89 

to think of giving me this melodious present; its shape is 
so charming and it is so light and easy to hold. She says not 
a word about it in her letter, and I am ignorant of the proper 
method of playing it; but as there is a little parcel of music 
with it and I already play the harp, I daresay I shall soon 
find out. 

Her dear long letter, however, pleased me most of all. 
My poor darling, what sad, heart-stirring emotions you must 
have struggled with during these last weeks ! Everything in 
Paris must remind you of those days of terrible suffering 
and of your lost love. Oh faithful heart, that neither time 
nor Death can turn from its allegiance, that cannot conceive 
the possibiHty of seeking to replace the lost dehght! 



CHAPTER XIX. 

SEVENTH LETTER. 

Paris, 3d 'Nivose XI. 

My beloved Annaliebe: 

A thousand thousand thanks for your loving letter and 
the fascinating little gifts you made for me with your dear 
clever hands. 

I trust my letter reached you by Christmas and that the 
little guitar pleased you. It is greatly in vogue here with the 
ladies, and I do not think you will find any difficulty in learn- 
ing to play it. It will form a charming accompaniment to 
your sweet voice — would that I could hear it ! — as a solo in- 
strument it is not very satisfactory. I thought much on 
Christmas Eve of you all and the many beautiful Christmas 
festivals I had shared with you at home. Here, you know, 
there is nothing of the kind, though Edmee invited a few 
friends to spend the evening with us and distributed her 
etrennes amongst us instead of waiting for the New Year. 
These were mostly conUseries, the finest of which I pass on 
to you herewith for Phillinchen. Kiss her from me and tell 
her she is not to forget Aunt Cecile. 

Since writing to you last, we have made most of the visits 
set down upon our list. 

One of the first was to the Marquise de Montesson, whom 

IQO 



THE MARQUISE DE MONTESSON. I9I 

you know from Edmee's letters and also as an old friend of 
my youth. 

Her amiability and tact have made her beloved and re- 
spected by all parties and the First Consul holds her in high 
esteem. He has given her a pension and induced her to open 
her salons immediately after the Revolution, but it is princi- 
pally the old nobility who go there whom Bonaparte is so 
anxious to win over. 

She received me with open arms and embraced me ten- 
derly. Though aged the Marquise has lost none of her ex- 
quisite charm and distinction. 

She receives three times a week at 6 o'clock, and when 
we arrived there were already some thirty or forty ladies and 
gentlemen of all ages assembled in the rooms. Among them 
I found many friends and acquaintances of old days, and look- 
ing round these rooms filled with pictures of the Royal family 
and all that was in fashion before the great upheaval ; when 
I saw the servants in their powdered wigs and gala liveries 
handing round tea to these beautiful women with their soft 
voices and cultured speech, I almost felt that the interval had 
been a horrid dream and that I was back in the old days of my 
fair Queen Marie Antoinette. 

Several of the ladies told me that this circle of the old 
nobility lives quite to itself and takes no part whatever in 
the new Court and the festivities given there. — They alone 
will not adopt the new fashion of dress. Even those who 
have managed to save their fortune make not the slightest 
show of luxury, living quietly and forming a society in them- 
selves, but — it is nevertheless the first society of Paris. They 
are nearly all people of high culture and refinement, and many 
of them — women as well as men — famous in one way or an- 



192 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

Other. Besides, they have been joined by many of the old 
French savants and members of the Academy, also by more 
than one distinguished foreigner who find themselves out of 
touch with the manners of the new society. 

Although this circle professes to ignore the parvenu Bona- 
parte and all his works, I found that, nevertheless, conversa- 
tion turned perpetually upon the new Court, and many were 
the biiingly satirical stories that were told about its short- 
comings. 

The Prince de Poix led the van in this respect, though 
Edmee whispered to me that in spite of his scandal he was 
much inclined to the new regime. 

One of the Prince's stories had for its heroine the Madame 
Grant whom Talleyrand married, and whose life formerly had 
been, I believe, extremely loose. The first time she entered 
the salons of Madame Bonaparte as the Marquise de Talley- 
rand-Perigord the Consul is said to have remarked to her — " I 
trust that Madame Talleyrand will make us forget Madame 
Grant." 

To which she replied — though I can scarcely believe this 
part of the Prince's story, for they say she is dreadfully stupid — 
" Monsieur le Consul, I shall endeavour to follow Madame 
Bonaparte's example in every way." 

If this answer is true it was a very clever slap at Madame 
Josephine's past. 

The newly organised Court bows down before the First 
Consul with truly military subservience though to all alike he 
is brusque and harsh; and even when he tries to be polite he 
only succeeds in being patronising. His whole manner there- 
fore gives one an impression of roughness and ill-breeding, 



MADAME DE STAEL. 1 93 

and he often employs expressions which are more fitted for 
the camp than the drawing-room. 

No wonder then that Madame Josephine, as I hear, does 
not feel quite in her element in this new Court and tries to re- 
gain access to the society into which she was born. She does 
her utmost to entice the ladies of our set into her Household, 
but it is love's labour lost. 

Edmee Hstened with an ironical smile to these stories 
against her hero, and remarked as we drove home that, despite 
the sarcasm of the company, she could name several who had 
managed to accommodate themselves to the new order of 
things. 

But the people who interested me most on that evening, 
after my dear Maman Montesson, were the Baroness de 
Stael and the Marquis de Luchesini who seemed quite on the 
footing of a member of the household. 

Place aux dames, dearest, and so I will begin with Madame 
de Stael. I knew her slightly before when her father, Necker, 
was Minister of Finance to the King. She must be 34 now, 
but I was quite astonished at her beauty and youthful appear- 
ance. She is quite lovely and the very personification of grace, 
with splendid hair and wonderful dark eyes that seem to ex- 
press every passing emotion, every changing thought. She 
seems to possess an unerring instinct for the manners of the 
great world and bears herself as nobly as if her forefathers had 
been dukes and princes instead of little provincial bourgeois. 
Her fame as an authoress and the part she played in the Revo- 
lution are known to all the world. However, since her life was 
in danger during the Terror and she fled with her father to 
Coppet on the Lake of Geneva she has entirely reversed her 
opinions and, like most converts, is how an extreme Legitimist. 



194 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

She married the Baron de Stael-Holstein in 1786, but the 
union has not been a particularly happy one, I hear, and the 
two have lived mostly apart. Latterly, however, since the 
Baron fell seriously ill there has been a rapprochement and 
Madame nurses her husband with unfailing devotion. Other- 
wise she is wholly absorbed in her literary work. 

When this celebrated lady came up to me and, embracing 
me aflfectionately, spoke of the days of our early acquaintance, 
I was subjugated by the charm of her manner and the influence 
of her great mind, and returned her greeting most cordially. 
She is indeed an extraordinary woman. In the days when we 
were young girls together, and the rest of us thought of noth- 
ing but dancing and amusements, she was already writing the 
most thoughtful books on the profoundest problems of life. 

As to the Marquis Luchesini, I was of course particularly 
interested in him, first as being the ambassador for Prussia, 
my dear second home, and then because of the crowd of 
amusing stories Philipp Alvensleben and Kockeritz used to 
tell us of him, his femme irresolue and her sisters. What a 
funny black-haired, Jewish-looking mannikin it is, to be sure! 
I must say, I was ashamed to see Prussia represented by such 
a man. I heard a great deal about him, for everybody seems 
to know him and his peculiar qualities well. They say that he 
stands well with Talleyrand, but that the First Consul cannot 
endure him. The Marquise was there too, an extremely stout 
and by no means pretty woman in a hyper-fashionable toilette, 
so decolletee as to be absolutely indecent. The two made a 
mysteriously sinister impression on me and no one seemed 
to affect their company much, although the Marquise raved 
about Paris, saying it was her dearest wish to be able to spend 
the rest of her life there. The Marquis made himself very 



ATTEMPT ON BONAPARTE'S LIFE. I95 

agreeable and told me much that was interesting about my 
dear Berlin, but, for all that, the man was thoroughly distaste- 
ful to me, and I believe him to be so self-seeking and un- 
scrupulous as to sacrifice the interests of your country to 
further his own ends. 

Yesterday evening we were at the Italian Opera. This is 
Bonaparte's favourite theatre. The house is extremely well 
decorated and splendidly lighted — altogether Paris is far in 
advance of Berlin in the matter of lighting. The orchestra 
was perfect and the company unsurpassable; it is a disgrace 
to Paris that the opera house finds so little support, one sees 
only actual musical connoisseurs there. I believe the Paris- 
ians are too blindly devoted to their own productions to admit 
the claims of foreigners to any merit. 

Bonaparte was present with his wife and step-daughter 
Hortense, but he sat so far back in the loge behind his wife 
that I scarcely saw him, the loge being on the same side of the 
theatre as our own. The Consul had about thirty of his guards 
with him, who were distributed over a number of loges. He 
left an hour before the end of the opera, but Madame remained 
to the last and drove away in an elegant English carriage with 
two footmen. 

As Bonaparte rose to leave, the whole audience stood 
up and gave him a perfect ovation. For a moment, then, I 
saw his face as he gazed down unmoved at the cheering 
crowd. Then he bent his head shghtly and disappeared. 

This demonstration is doubtless the result of his late nar- 
row escape from death, a plot hatched by the Jacobins, who 
are for ever on the outlook for a chance to assassinate him. 
Madame de Montesson, who was with us that evening in the 
theatre, told me all about it. The plan was to blow up the Con- 



196 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

sul by an infernal machine, something of the kind employed 
by my Hector when he saved me from the guillotine. But 
Providence mercifully averted this calamity which, in these 
unsettled times, might have had incalculably mischievous re- 
sults. The coachman driving the Consul's carriage was a 
cool-headed German who, catching sight suddenly of a small 
handcart with a barrel on it just in front of him, and some 
suspicious-looking men prowling near it, without a moment's 
hesitation whipped up his horses and dashed past at a furious 
gallop. — Almost at the same moment the barrel exploded 
with a report like thunder, the houses rocked, glass and bricks 
rained down upon the pavements, and a number of people 
were frightfully injured or killed outright — but the Consul es- 
caped unhurt. 

He was on his way to the Opera House, where Haydn's 
" Creation " was being performed that evening. By the time 
he appeared in the Royal loge, his usual marble demeanour 
no whit disturbed, the news of the attempt on his life had 
reached and spread through the house. The performers were 
no doubt affected by this ; in any case, the singing did not 
meet with the Consul's approval. When, at the close of the 
performance, some of the leading singers presented them- 
selves before Bonaparte to congratulate him on his escape, he 
answered gruffly : " Je voiis remercie, messieurs, mais vous avez 
chante coninie des cochons! " 

By which, my Annaliebe, you will see that the great man 
cannot be accused of too excessive politeness. Even his 
adored Josephine came in for a share of his harsh temper that 
evening, for when, bathed in tears, she flew out of her loge 
to meet him, he begged her sharply to collect herself, add- 
ing, " Remember, Madame, you are not a fishv/ife." He evi- 



THE FIRST CONSUL AT ST. CLOUD. I97 

dently expects the same imperturbable coolness and self- 
control from his surroundings as he possesses himself. 

The First Consul has now removed his official residence 
to St. Cloud and only comes to the Tuileries on business of 
the State. It is very doubtful if he will return to Paris at all 
this winter; everything is being arranged for a permanent 
stay at St. Cloud. The immense regiment of domestics is 
lodged in some great monastery buildings close by the pal- 
ace. But Mistrust goes the rounds and Suspicion is the sen- 
tinel, and the poor inhabitants of St. Cloud have been for- 
bidden, by express order of the First Consul, to use any 
promenade but the one along the river; the Park is inexo- 
rably closed to them. 

In other respects his Household is daily conforming more 
and more to the pattern of a royal one, in fact the whole cur- 
rent of things is setting rapidly towards a Monarchy, and you 
will see that the strong man now at the head of affairs will 
not suffer these half measures much longer. 

My visit to Talleyrand must still be deferred, as he has 
not yet returned from Luneville, where he is drawing up the 
final conditions of the Peace. After all, he is a great states- 
man and has just secured for France by the Peace of Lune- 
ville a territory about a third as large as all Prussia. Here 
he is almost as much talked about as his great master. 

You write that I am to describe the latest modes in vogue 
here. That is no easy task, I can assure you; but I enclose 
you herewith a fashion-plate which will give you some idea 
of a really new costume which combines elegance with de- 
cency — a pair often more widely separated than one might 
wish. 

As to the men — they all wear their hair now cut short a la 



198 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

Titus, blue coats with black collars and brass buttons, a short 
yellow gilet with large collar and revers, and long black cassi- 
mere pantalons. If one wishes to be ultra-modish, an enormous 
three-cornered hat under the arm must be carried. 

But now I really must close this unconscionably long let- 
ter and say good-bye for to-day, my sweetest friend. How- 
ever, as we are on the subject of fashions, let me send you 
herewith the very latest frivolity — a glove-nut. I think the 
pair inside will just fit your pretty little hands, and if, after 
wearing them, you fail to pack them into the nut again, never 
mind — I could not either with my own. It is only a toy. 
And now adieu, mon ange, I look forward confidently to a letter 
from you to-morrow. 

Cecile. 

How justly the Baroness gauged the character of the 
Marquis de Luchesini was amply proved by his subsequent 
actions, which were most disastrous for Prussia. Napoleon's 
ever-growing distrust of Prussia must be ascribed solely to 
Luchesini's influence. It was the triumvirate Haugwitz, 
Lombard, and Luchesini who brought about Prussia's down- 
fall at that period. When in 1806 Luchesini concluded the 
shameful armistice with the Emperor Napoleon which the 
King refused to accept, he was dismissed. From that time 
till his death in 1825 he was Chamberlain to the Princess 
Elise, Napoleon's youngest sister, who married the enor- 
mously wealthy Prince Bacciochi. 



CHAPTER XX. 

EIGHTH LETTER. 

Paris, 14th Nivose XI. 

My darling Annaliehe: 

At last, my great wish has been fulfilled and I have had a 
good view of the mighty Bonaparte, the man on whom the 
eyes of the whole world are fixed in wonder and expectation. 

There was to be a grand parade of troops in front of the 
Tuileries at ii o'clock in the morning; accordingly Edmee 
and I drove there, but found that having omitted to procure 
tickets we were not allowed to pass the grille and so only ob- 
tained an impression of the parade as a whole; we were too 
far off for the details. 

This was the spot on which on August loth, 1792, the 
Swiss guards were so brutally cut down defending the palace 
against the onslaught of the populace. Oh, if the King had 
only had some of Bonaparte's energy at that time, how dif- 
ferently things would have turned out ! 

At II o'clock the troops, numbering about 7000 men, be- 
gan to march up, the cavalry being the garde consulaire and 
the infantry the corps des veterans. It is considered a great 
distinction to belong to the former extremely elite regiment, as 
only the finest men with at least three campaigns behind them 
are admitted to it. 

199 



200 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

On the stroke of 12 Bonaparte came galloping up on a 
superb white horse accompanied by several Generals — among 
whom Edmee pointed out Berthier and Lannes — and his 
Adjutants. Immediately behind him rode his Mameluke 
Roustan, whom the Sheik El Bekri had given him in Egypt 
and who is never far from Bonaparte's side. At night he lies 
across the Consul's door and is devotedly attached to him. He 
was riding a thoroughbred arab with gorgeous trappings 
and wore a most striking costume — a red velvet fez with a 
tuft of white feathers fastened by a gold agraffe, a short gold- 
embroidered jacket, and wide trousers of the same material 
stuffed into high yellow leather boots. At his side hung a 
curved Turkish scimiter, the hilt and scabbard encrusted with 
brilliants that flashed in the sunlight as he rode. 

And now the drums rolled and the air resounded with the 
shouts of " Vive Bonaparte — vive notre General ! " It was 
the first time the Consul had appeared in public since the 
Peace, and the people received him with frenzied enthusiasm. 

I saw him about four times as he galloped up and down 
the ranks. He is not tall and wore a red gold-embroidered 
coat and a large hat without any feathers. I was too far off 
to distinguish his features, but he is extremely pale. His in- 
spection over, he went to the middle of the Place surrounded 
by the Generals and distributed a few swords of honour and 
rifles. During the whole parade he never once touched his 
hat, but as he galloped past the veterans he bared his head. 
The troops then all marched past him and so out of the Place. 

The uniforms of the Generals were very richly embroi- 
dered, and as to the drummers, their coats were simply stiff 
with gold. As each drum-major marched past Bonaparte he 
threw his great baton, decorated with an enormous crimson 



MILITARY PARADE AT THE TUILERIES. '- 201 

tassel, high in the air, almost to the first-floor windows of the 
palace, and caught it again most adroitly; I did not see one 
baton fall to the ground. In distributing the decorations the 
Consul said a few words to each recipient, and to some of them 
he gave his hand. 

There was another long roll of drums and the massed bands 
burst into the Marseillaise. Oh Annaliebe, I cannot describe 
the sensation of hearing that song for the first time since the 
Revolution ! Rouget de Lisle little dreamt, when, full of en- 
thusiasm for Diderot's noble ideals of liberty, he wrote it, to 
what base uses it would fall during the Revolution! 

To-day it was played in honour of the- Dictator. Again 
there were deafening shouts of " Vive notre General Bona- 
parte! " and the Consul rode slowly back to the Tuileries. 

This, dearest friend, was my first sight of the omnipotent 
man who can make or mar my future. If I only knew how 
best to obtain an audience of him! Madame Josephine will be 
the best medium I think. 

After the Parade we drove out to Longchamps, where 
there is a sort of Corso now every afternoon, and the elegants 
of both sexes show off the very latest fashions in toilettes and 
carriages. Apropos of the latter, I notice that the coachman's 
box is now set so low that it seems in danger of scraping the 
ground, whereas, in my time, it was so high that one might 
almost step from it into the first-floor windows. 

We met numbers of cabriolets containing really beautiful 
women, some of whom Edmee named to me, for instance, the 
lovely Madame Lannes who drove past us with her husband 
the Marechal, known as the " Roland of the Army " because 
of his statuesque appearance. She is like one of Murillo's 
Madonnas and wore a very pale-coloured robe a la Grecque. 



202 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

All the toilettes are in very light tints, as the First Consul dis- 
likes dark colours. 

The fashionable colour is still brown " terre d'Egypte," 
though since the late sanguinary battles there it will probably 
be changed to crimson " terre d'Egypte." Enormously long 
trains are still prevalent and the promenade on foot is conse- 
quently intolerable from the dust. Please reassure Uncle 
Briest at once, however, by telling him that I have no inten- 
tion of following any of these abnormities in fashion. 

But ask him, with my love, if he has not yet become the 
proud possessor of one of the new high hats I observed to be 
the latest thing for gentlemen on the Corso. These are tall 
cylinders of black felt, smooth as mirrors, and look exactly 
like chimney-pots. I really thought I must be at a masque- 
rade. Edmee told me that the hatter — Thierry is his name — 
who invented them made a wager that he would introduce 
the very most absurd shape imaginable and it would become 
fashionable. And he won the wager, for these tall black pillars 
are now quite de rigueur with the exquisites. 

Your dear letter was as welcome and sweet as ever. My 
love to good Aunt Kroecher and thank her for her affectionate 
interest in my life and doings here. We are expecting the re- 
turn of the troops from Egypt very shortly; there will, no 
doubt, be many military fetes in consequence. Adieu for to- 
day, dear heart. My love to your husband and sweet Phil- 
linchen. 



CHAPTER XXI. 
NINTH LETTER. 

Paris, 22d Nivose XI. 

The week that has passed since I last wrote to you, 
dearest, has brought me one step nearer to the end I have in 
view. I have great hopes of being able to present myself to 
you soon as the chatelaine of Mont Courtot and Retrazet. 
Still, I may yet find myself disappointed, in spite of the favour- 
able aspect of afifairs. I will not set my mind upon it too 
soon. 

I wrote you that my friends here proposed various ways 
of my obtaining an audience with Madame Josephine, and as 
one of these plans led me also to Talleyrand, I determined 
to make a beginning with him as soon as he returned from 
Luneville. I felt less shy in addressing myself first to this 
famous statesman because, during my childhood and while 
he was still Bishop of Autun, he had frequently been the guest 
of my dear parents. In fact, for some reason or other, he 
took a great fancy to me, and used always to bring toys for 
me, so that my dear mother would tease me about the evi- 
dent fondness of the ugly old man whom I could not bear. 
And now I was going to him as a suppliant! However, as 
many of my acquaintances assured me that he made a very 

good business out of this restitution of property, I too re- 

203 



204 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

garded the matter more from the practical than the senti- 
mental point of view. 

At the Marquise d'Assas the other day somebody told a 
story illustrating his venality. 

It seems that the great water-works at Marly which dur- 
ing the last century had cost millions to set up and keep in 
order, had fallen into such a state of dilapidation that a tho- 
rough restoration of the machinery had become imperatively 
necessary. 

A Versailles without fountains was, of course, inconceiv- 
able; moreover, the First Consul had expressed his intention 
of using the palace as another official residence; so the busi- 
ness firms were called upon in all haste to submit their plans, 
and a Company, with the famous Montgolfier at its head, 
offered to supply, in the shortest possible time, entirely new 
machinery, which should also bring a larger volume of water 
into play. And for all remuneration they only asked for the 
material of the old machinery. 

But Montgolfier, never dreaming that an ofifer so bril- 
liantly advantageous to the Government would require Talley- 
rand's patronage, omitted to buy over that statesman, with 
the result that his offer was refused. 

Other machinery was then put in, at a cost of three million 
francs, and proved itself later to be almost worthless. This 
circumstance was, however, of minor importance ; Monsieur 
Talleyrand had his 100,000 francs " commission " safely in his 
pocket and that was all that mattered ! And that is the way 
many a large fortune is made just now — Talleyrand's is al- 
ready computed at twenty million francs. 

The man is as cunning as a fox and as slippery as an eel — • 
there is no getting hold of him. He gave proof of that when 



TALLEYRAND. 205 

he, the ci-devant Bishop, induced the Pope to give him a dis- 
pensation, whereby he was free to marry this Madame Grant, 
and after all his sins against the Church, too. There is every 
reason to believe that he made the recall of the priests de- 
pendent on this dispensation. 

They say that his influence with the First Consul is daily 
becoming greater, and though Bonaparte hates him, he can- 
not do without him. 

The Prince de Poix showed us a caricature the other day 
representing Talleyrand with his club foot holding Bonaparte 
by both hands and making him dance, while Cardinal Caprara, 
who is very influential here too, stands grinning by and plays 
the fiddle. 

This open ridicule of public personages, which was the 
first sign of the Revolution, is coming up again ; I trust, 
however, with less serious results. 

Having given you a slight sketch of Talleyrand's public 
character, let me go on to describe my visit to him two days 
ago. I was decidedly nervous about this first meeting with 
him, Edmee having heard that his manner towards ladies was, 
if anything, worse than Bonaparte's. However, thank 
Heaven, things turned out better than I could have hoped 
for. 

I was ushered into a sumptuously furnished salon by a 
lacquey in a richly laced coat, who handed me over to a 
gentleman-in-waiting, who proceeded to announce me to the 
Minister. Immediately afterwards the door opened and the 
" Marquis citoyen," as he calls himself, entered en petite tenue, 
namely, a blue coat with gold-embroidered collar and revers, a 
lace jabot and white pantalons en escarpins. But in spite of 
this becoming uniform he looked positively hideous, and I 



206 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

could hardly repress a shudder as I faced him. It was not 
so much his ghastly pallor and staring fishy eyes, his turned- 
up nose and enormous, long-lipped mouth, not even his mis- 
shapen feet, one of which he dragged behind him as he walked, 
that disgusted and terrified me — it was his appalling hkeness 
to the monster Robespierre. It made my flesh creep — they 
might have been twin-brothers. 

It is hardly possible that the observant Minister should 
not have noticed my start of horror, but a marble statue could 
not have remained more unmoved. Whether this immobility 
of feature is his by nature or an acquired mask I know not — 
perhaps he is aware of the peculiar impression he makes upon 
strangers — at any rate, he let no sign escape him and ad- 
vanced towards me with a friendly outstretched hand. 

Oh Annaliebe, I cannot describe to you what I felt as I 
timidly laid my fingers in that cold and clammy hand! The 
thought of all the evil he had wrought upon my beloved 
Royal House came over me in a rush ! 

" Well, mademoiselle, and so you are safe back in your 
own country again — you poor little lady," he began. " I was 
sincerely delighted to hear of your escape and only regretted 
that I was out of the country at the time and could not be of 
assistance to you. But why did you and your Princess not 
stay quietly in England where you were out of harm's way ? " 

The tone of his voice was harsh and rasping and without 
the slightest modulation, and yet there was undeniably a cer- 
tain kindliness in his words. 

What could I answer to his last question? Tell him what 
I more than suspected of Philippe Egalite's share in the mat- 
ter? To what end? How would it serve me? The villain 



VISIT TO TALLEYRAND. 20/ 

had paid the price of his crimes, had long since received his 
just reward. 

So I merely replied that we had felt it impossible to desert 
the Queen in her hour of peril. 

A horrid, half-mocking smile passed over the Minister's 
cold features at these words and he murmured to himself, 
"II y a done des singidures! " — "What extraordinary senti- 
ments you women do indulge in, to be sure! " he went on. 
" The Queen's case was hopeless, you could not possibly have 
saved her ; of what use then could it be to Marie Antoinette 
that you two should come back to certain death?" 

What did this egoist know of devoted love ; of the love 
that will ever sacrifice its own good to that of the friend; 
how could he understand the solace we derived from offer- 
ing our poor services to the Royal sufiferer? I could only 
falter, " These are questions of feeling, Monseigneur, about 
which it is useless to argue." 

He then went on to ask about my personal circumstances 
and my parents. He alluded to the by-gone days in which he 
had known me as a child, and it seemed to me that with the 
recollection of that time another expression came upon his 
hard face and there was quite an affectionate warmth in the 
tone in which he murmured, " Yes — yes — they were dear good 
people ! " 

He made me tell him where I had been all these years and 
the manner of my escape from death — he had never heard the 
details. " Ah, my little friend," he went on, " I pitied you with 
all my heart and have often thought of the little girl I used 
to dance upon my knee." 

I can assure you, Annaliebe, I was struck dumb with 
astonishment, I could not believe my ears. Could this be the 



208 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

same man who had spoken so cynically just now? The half- 
closed eyes had a totally different expression; he looked at 
me almost tenderly and held out his hand. When I came to 
the scene of my rescue by Hector the pangs of memory were 
too much for me and I burst into tears. " Poor girl, what 
have you not had to go through," he said, laying his hand 
kindly on my shoulder, "to be saved from death as by a miracle 
and then to lose your lover immediately afterwards — poor little 
Cecile, that was indeed hard! " 

"So Hector de Trehissac was your fiance's name?" he 
went on after a pause. "Are there any more Trellissacs? " 
I told him no, that Hector was the last of his line. " Where 
can I have heard that name? " he pondered with a shake of 
the head. " It must have been in the old days, I suppose." 

You may imagine what I felt at these words, Annaliebe. 
For one instant a dazzling, heavenly hope flashed through my 
mind. But it was madness — I had seen my lover's head 
covered with blood, I had seen him die, there was no linger- 
ing possibility of doubt or hope. 

Burying my face in my hands, I burst into tears and gave 
way utterly under the pain these memories reawakened in my 
heart. 

At this Talleyrand laid a hand gently on my shoulder. " Do 
not cry like that, my poor girl," he entreated, " I cannot bear to 
see it; and pray forgive me for having grieved you thus by my 
questions." 

I did my utmost to control myself, and presently he took 
my hand reassuringly and asked : " Now tell me how I can be 
of service to you? I gather from your letter that you have 
a definite object in coming here — the restitution of your 



[TALLEYRAND'S UNEXPECTED SYMPATHY. 2O9 

family property, no doubt? Are there any others of your 
name? " 

Drying my tears, I answered falteringly that I had a young 
cousin, Camille de Courtot, attached to the Embassy in Brus- 
sels. 

" Well, my little friend," he resumed, " I will do all for 
you that lies in my power, but I think it advisable that you 
should enlist Madame Josephine's sympathies — for the mo- 
ment, I am almost powerless, my mediation would do you 
more harm than good, I fear, as I am on the First Consul's 
black books. Stay — I will give you a letter of introduction to 
the Marquis de Coulaincourt, who has just entered upon his 
duties as Master of the Household to Madame Bonaparte and 
who will soon procure you an audience with that lady. Never 
fear, you shall have your property restored to you — I will take 
care of that. You will doubtless have observed. Mademoi- 
selle," he continued and his cynical smile returned, " that 
things have changed considerably since you were here. Surely 
you knew something of our fair Queen-Consul in former 
days? Ah — of course. Well, do not fail to establish yourself 
in the good graces of this all-powerful woman, there is hardly 
anything impossible to her just now! " 

" The Marquis is Master of the Household to Madame 
Josephine? " I cried in astonishment. 

Talleyrand laughed aloud. " What, another aristocrat ! you 
will say. But mark my words: every one of them will come 
round in time. Coulaincourt, however, has a certain excuse 
for accepting a post near Madame, for, if you remember, the 
lady was long undecided whether, of her many wooers, 
Coulaincourt was not preferable to the much older Beau- 
harnais. And now instead of being her husband he has be- 



210 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS 

come Master of her Household. Well, well — I tell you they will 
all come by and by. Why, only the other day the Laroche- 
foucauld offered herself as dame d'atour. You would never 
believe from what quarters petitions pour in on the Consul 
nearly every day. Between ourselves, the Bourbon Princes 
are drawing settled incomes from him, even the so-called 
Louis XVIIL, at present in England, petitioned Bonaparte 
a little while ago to help him to the Throne. But, though 
Madame Josephine implored her husband on her knees to re- 
store the Bourbons, Bonaparte seems to have no leanings 
towards the part of King-Maker. If he makes anybody into 
a King it will be himself and no one else in the world, you 
may be sure. But pray regard these confidences as strictly be- 
tween ourselves. — By the way, Mademoiselle, should Madame 
Josephine procure you an audience with the First Consul, 
stand up to him fearlessly and prefer your request in as few 
words as possible, he does not like long speeches. However, 
should he ask you if you would like to enter Madame's House- 
hold, give him an evasive answer — say for instance that the 
last male member of the family is already in the service of the 
State. — Of course if you liked to accept the post you would 
be welcomed with open arms. You can think it over. — Now, 
I think that is all the advice I can offer you. Keep up your 
spirits, all will go well, I hope. If you will take the trouble to 
go to the Marquise for a few moments I will bring the letter of 
recommendation to you there." 

The Minister herewith brought his long speech to a close 
and held out his hand. I thanked him warmly for his kind- 
ness, curtseyed low and retired, the gentleman-in-waiting con- 
ducting me to the apartments of Madame la Marquise. 

As you may imagine, I did not anticipate much pleasure 



INTRODUCTION DE MME. GRANT. 211 

from this visit. The httle, corpulent, very common-looking 
lady received me graciously, her flabby old face thickly plas- 
tered with red and white paint, and short as my visit was, I 
had ample time to convince myself of her extremely limited 
capacities. She has the manners of a bourgeoise from the 
provinces, and once more I had a glaring proof of the strange 
fact that the cleverest men often fall into the hands of the 
stupidest, ugliest women. I wonder why it should be so? I 
believe that with most men, and old ones in particular, it is a 
question of habit. And so it is with Talleyrand probably. The 
woman thoroughly understood his peculiarities and his tastes, 
indeed to the extent — so Monsieur de Volnay said maliciously 
the other evening — of affording the old roue opportunities of 
meeting ladies in her salons with whom he could satisfy his 
taste for a little change of company. Hence her influence over 
the otherwise astute man. 

And for all that, you cannot help being surprised that this 
keen-witted schemer should have braved the Papal thunders 
for such a woman ! 

To my relief, my tete-a-tete with the lady did not last very 
long. The Minister soon appeared and handed me the 
promised letter, whereupon I took leave of the strangely 
assorted couple. 

This letter, my dear Annaliebe, you may well label " The 
Talleyrand," for it deals almost exclusively with him. But you 
take such a sympathetic interest in all that concerns me and 
my affairs, that I knew you would like to know the details 
of this first important step towards gaining my object. 

I shall send in my letter of recommendation to-day to 
Coulaincourt in his new character of Master of the House- 
hold, accompanied by a request for the honour of an audience 



212 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. \ 

with Madame Josephine, and then await further developments. 
One thing I look forward to with malicious joy, if I do have 
an audience, and that is Monsieur le Marquis' face when he 
has to introduce me to his mistress. 

Oh, it is a queer world, Annaliebe, and I often feel as if 
my former life here was only a dream, A dream that I was 
ever a Lady-in-waiting at the Tuileries, a dream that other 
princes ever ruled here, and, finally, a cruel dream of all I once 
suffered in this city. At times, even, I begin to doubt if this 
is the same people I lived among nine years ago — it seems 
like another race altogether. 

Farewell, my soul's beloved, I will write the moment any- 
thing fresh occurs. 

My faithful love to you and yours. 

P.S. — Should you chance to meet any one from Berlin, 
please find out more for me about the Luchesinis; it would 
interest me to hear further details of the curious pair. 

Part of Talleyrand's enormous fortune found its way later 
into Prussia, when Duke Edmond de Talleyrand married the 
Princess of Kurland and Sagan and so acquired the Duke- 
dom of Sagan. His sons, the Dukes of Valencay and of Dino 
have settled in Silesia, where they have considerable landed 
property. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

TENTH LETTER. 

Paris, 28th Nivose XI. 

My darling Annaliebe: 

" L'homme propose mais Dieu dispose." — My audience 
with Madame Josephine has fallen through for the present. 
But I must tell you the whole story. 

I sent in my letter of recommendation to the Marquis in 
all due form and received an answer, on the next day but one, 
informing me that Her Excellency Madame Bonaparte would 
be pleased to receive Mademoiselle de Courtot at 12 o'clock 
on the 1 6th inst. at the Palais de Malmaison. There were 
only three days till then, so you may imagine that I was in a 
great state of nervousness as to whether I could make myself 
sufficiently fine, in that short space, to present myself before 
so critical a feminine judge as the elegant Josephine. 

Edmee threw herself into the breach, and we instantly set 
out for the celebrated Magazin de Modes of Messieurs Des- 
preaux and Leroi, where we bought some lovely dress ma- 
terial of a colour called " gorge de pigeon." Then to 
Josephine's own Court dressmaker, Madame Germon, who 
actually sent me home the dress in two days' time ! 

I enclose the fashion-plate on which the costume was 
modelled, so that you may have some idea of how your Cecile 



214, LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

will look on the important occasion, I shall wear a jabot of 
Flemish lace fastened on the bosom with a diamond clasp, 
which Edmee will kindly lend me. My hair will be dressed 
a I'antique by the renowned Monsieur Duplan, with the addi- 
tion of an enamel and diamond coronet, also out of Edmee's 
jewel-box, and a great ostrich plume at the left side. You 
know, dearest, that I never wear anything but black and of 
the simplest design ; so you may imagine how strange I felt 
when I first tried on this fashionable garment with the waist 
up under my arms and its long train. Nevertheless — now, 
do not laugh at your old friend — I was not ill-pleased at my 
appearance. The chignon of airy curls gathered high at the 
back will quite suit me, I think, and Edmee declares flatter- 
ingly that I shall look ten years younger. 

You must be surprised, my AnnaHebe, that I still write of 
this interview in the future tense, but, at the last moment, 
my audience had to be deferred indefinitely. 

On the day before the appointed date, Coulaincourt sent 
me word that Madame had met with a slight accident and 
therefore could not receive me. 

It appears that Madame Josephine was visiting a friend of 
hers, a Madame de Campis, at Plombieres. Several other 
ladies, Madame Savary, I think, for one, were there, and while 
sitting in the drawing-room one of them happened to notice a 
charming little English terrier in the street below. Josephine, 
who is very fond of animals, went on to the balcony with her 
hostess to look at the dog, but hardly had they set foot on it 
than the balcony broke and precipitated both ladies into the 
street. Madame de Campis fractured her hip, but Josephine 
escaped with a few slight wounds on her hands and arms — 
mere scratches — but she is in bed, suffering from nervous 



NAPOLEON AT THE MINT. 21 5 

shock, and no wonder. The First Consul is said to have been 
much alarmed and upset and put off his journey to Lyons 
for several days in consequence. And that is why my au- 
dience could not take place. I am very glad, however, that 
the lady — who seems to be deservedly popular — came off with 
such slight injury. It might have been a very ugly accident. 

It seems to me the nation cannot make enough of its 
Bonaparte. Every week you find the statuesque head — on 
which, as Lebrun sang the other night at the Opera, the 
Peace of the World is founded — reproduced in some new 
style, sometimes uglier, sometimes handsomer than the origi- 
nal. From the reticules of the ladies it has now passed to 
the newly invented paper fans. Of all the portraits I have 
seen as yet, that by David seems to me the most noteworthy. 
I send you herewith a little copy, which is to be had now in 
all the shops. Latterly, too, another new medal was struck 
on which he is associated with the other two Consuls in the 
style called, in numismatics, " capita jugata," but with this 
peculiarity, that whereas the other two heads are merely in- 
dicated, his is surrounded by a nimbus of rays. Beneath is an 
allegorical group and the words, " Peace and Plenty under 
the Consul's rule have recalled Art and Science." 

Apropos of numismatics I must tell you a story Madame 
de Guiche told us, demonstrating how little artistic sense the 
First Consul possesses. New five-franc pieces were to be 
issued, and it was necessary that Bonaparte should come to 
the Mint to decide upon the portrait to be used for the stamp. 
The Director of the Musees and the Mint, Monsieur Denon, 
a litterateur (he wrote a description of Napoleon's wonderful 
campaign in Egypt) eminently suited to the post, ordered the 
head man of the department, Magnier, to prepare a portrait 



2l6 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

of the Consul in a few days, so that when he appeared in the 
Mint he might have the pleasure of seeing the coins struck on 
the spot. 

Magnier dechned to do this, saying the time was too short 
to prepare a work of real artistic value, and that the Consul 
would have to sit to him for the portrait. 

Monsieur Denon persisting in his demand, however, a 
subordinate named Thierry, a clever but superficial workman, 
offered to carry out the order so that the coins should be 
stamped in the actual presence of the Consul; and accordingly 
the matter was entrusted to him. 

On the appointed day Bonaparte appeared in the Mint 
with a numerous following. The moment he entered the 
machine room the wheels were set in motion, the stamping be- 
gan, and shortly afterwards Monsieur Denon was able to hand 
to the Consul the first of the new five-franc pieces stamped 
with a tolerably successful Bonaparte head. The Consul ex- 
pressed himself as entirely satisfied and gave the order on the 
spot for the two million five-franc pieces. 

Properly speaking, the Consul has no right whatever to 
issue such an order on his own account, the sanction of the 
entire corps legislatif being necessary, but it is an open secret 
that this body has become a mere cipher in Bonaparte's hands, 
and he acts as autocratically as he pleases. 

But there was a sequel to the story. — The two million coins 
were duly struck and ready for issue in ten days, but alas, 
Monsieur Denon and his spirited young colleague had for- 
gotten, in the hurry of the moment, that these five-franc pieces 
were not medals but the ordinary coin of commerce, and had 
made the stamp in such high relief that the coins could not be 
laid on the top of one another, and were thus totally unfit for 



CARNIVAL TIME. 21/ 

business purposes. So there was nothing for it but to con- 
sign the whole two milHons once more to the melting-pot and 
have them re-struck, whereby the deeply offended Magnier 
got his rights ; but the whole affair cost a great deal of money 
and the First Consul had to suffer much annoyance at the 
hands of the ever watchful caricaturists. 

For painting, too, the Consul seems to have little appre- 
ciation, never giving any commissions but for his own por- 
trait — David's extraordinary picture of the General prancing 
up the St. Bernhard on a dapple-grey charger had to be copied 
several times. The only branch of Art he has any real taste 
for is the tragic drama, more especially when acted by his 
favourite Talma. I will tell you more about this actor after 
I have seen him, which will happen before long, I think. He 
is expected back shortly from Italy, where he has been spend- 
ing three months for the good of his overworked voice. 

The Carnival time has been particularly uproarious and 
gay this year. When we drive out, the streets, especially the 
Rue Richelieu and Rue St. Honore, are full of masks till late 
into the night. Plaster mice, confetti, and straw wreaths were 
thrown into our carriage and there were roars of inextin- 
guishable laughter if anybody chanced to be hit. They say 
that the government has expended an enormous sum on pro- 
moting this apparently spontaneous display of festivity among 
the populace — it cost the police 30,000 francs on Mardi Gras 
alone for the masqueraders they provided. This plan of filling 
the streets with paid masks was entirely done away with under 
the last reigns; it seems a pity that the new regime should 
have to fall back on it again. A disagreeable intermezzo to 
this joyous Saturnalia has been furnished by the thunder-bolts 
launched by the Jupiter of the Tuileries against some of the 



2l8 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

aristocrats who were foolhardy enough to express their disap- 
proval of certain measures adopted by the present govern- 
ment. The Marquise de Champanetz, for instance, was given 
one hour to prepare for banishment to Antwerp, with the al- 
ternative of taking up her abode in the Temple. It quite 
carries one back to the days of the Icttres de cachet. And this 
although the Marquise was one of the most universally popular 
ladies and quite at home in Josephine's set. 

Since Peace was definitely concluded and people have be- 
come reassured as to the future, foreigners are streaming into 
Paris in extraordinary numbers, especially Germans, who 
readily obtain employment, being well known for their in- 
dustry and trustworthiness. You cannot think how refresh- 
ing it is to me to hear the famiHar accents of my adopted 
country once more — and to speak it too! I went into a glove 
shop the other day and at once divined the nationality of the 
blonde girl behind the counter. You should have seen how 
her blue eyes lit up when I addressed her in German. The con- 
stant intercourse between France and Germany during the 
long wars seems to have removed a good deal of mutual 
prejudice, and I hear that many people have begun to learn 
German in order to study the literature in the original, transla- 
tions being as a rule but poor affairs. There are German read- 
ing parties, German clubs, even a German theatre up till a 
short time ago, but that has evidently come to grief, for when 
Edmee and I went there one evening we found that the Di- 
rector, a Herr Haselmeier, had just vanished, leaving the poor 
company in the lurch. 

There is no doubt too that French literature is beginning 
to bloom out again in the genial atmosphere after the long 
winter of the Revolution. Delille, Mason, and many others 



THE AERONAUT GARNERIN. 219 

have arisen to charm us with their writings, and the older 
poets, such as Racine, Corneille, Boileau, and Lafontaine are 
receiving fresh appreciation. It is to be hoped that this state 
of things will continue and soon obliterate all traces of the 
degrading effects of the Terror. 

We consoled ourselves for our disappointment about the 
German theatre by going to the Place des Victoires to see the 
Aeronaut Garnerin go up with his wife in a balloon, a specta- 
cle which was quite new to me. As we approached the Place 
we caught sight of the great air balloon floating about five 
feet above the heads of the assembled crowd. It was made of 
silk and ornamented with enormous initials — N. B. — in honour 
of the First Consul. Under it burned a fire of wood and straw 
which inflated it with warm air, till the balloon must inevitably 
have flown up into the sky had it not been restrained with 
ropes held by at least a hundred people. To the balloon was 
attached a great basket into which the bold aeronaut and his 
wife proceeded to climb. He then fired off a pistol as a signal 
for the people to let go the ropes, and the balloon mounted 
majestically into the air amid the deafening applause of the 
crowd. It was borne along on the current of wind at a height 
of about 500 feet and presently the aeronaut threw out a little 
dog attached to a parachute, the poor little creature landing, 
quite unhurt but as wet as if it had come out of the water, on 
the roof of a house, from whence it was rescued by a chimney- 
sweep. Meanwhile the balloon came down without any injury 
to itself or its daring occupants at Gonesse, on the other side 
of the Seine, but we heard afterwards that the frightened 
peasants, taking it for the work of the Devil, had torn it in a 
thousand pieces — a terrible pecuniary loss to its owner. I was 
very sorry for the poor aeronaut and trust he will soon be able 



220 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

to replace it — they say the exhibition draws enormous crowds. 
There, my Annaliebe, I have had another long, long gos- 
sip with you ! Each day brings so many new sights and im- 
pressions that I could go on writing pages. I hope in my 
next letter to be able to tell you that I have seen Madame 
Josephine and so advanced another step in my affairs. And 
now, fare thee well, my darling — the best of greetings to all 
my dear friends and hearty congratulations to the Herr Can- 
didatus on his engagement. May dear little Kathchen be 
very happy at his side and perhaps lighten his pedantry just 
the least little bit! 

Touie & toi, 

CecilE. 



CHAPTER XXIIL 
ELEVENTH LETTER. 

Paris, i6th Pluviose XI. 
Palais Brancas. 

My sweetest Friend: 

This is going to be another of my long letters, for so 
much has happened to me in these last few days that I hardly 
know where to begin. 

Well, my audience with the all-powerful Madame Jose- 
phine has taken place. Thank Heaven, I have that behind me \ 

On the 6th of February, I received notice that Madame 
would see me the next day at 12 in the Chateau de Mal- 
maison. Accordingly I began my toilette early on the event- 
ful day and am bound to confess that I was well pleased with 
the result when it was finished. Goodness knows, I had no 
idea of making conquests ; on the other hand, I did not wish 
to appear in a pre-historic costume at this ultra new-fashioned 
Court, and so was glad that the various artists to whom I was 
indebted for my smart appearance had done their work so 
well. 

Warmly ensconced in Edmee's carriage, I drove out 
through the bright wintry sunshine to Malmaison, reaching 
my destination a little before 12. 

The Chateau and even the park surrounding it were much 
changed from what I remembered. I heard from Edmee that 



222 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

Bonaparte found the beautiful property in a terribly dilapi- 
dated condition on his return from Egypt, and that Madame 
Josephine had incurred a mass of debt on it which her hus- 
band had to pay — over a million francs, I believe. However, 
he had both Chateau and park put in repair, and Madame dis- 
played a very elegant taste in the laying out of the latter. 

As I drove through the great avenue leading to the 
Chateau, I met a cavalcade composed of two young ladies 
and several gentlemen, in one of whom, to my intense aston- 
ishment, I recognised the Prince de Poix. Edmee's old man- 
servant sitting beside the coachman replied, on my question- 
ing him, that one of the ladies was the sister and the other 
the step-daughter of the First Consul. 

Of course I looked then with increased interest at the two 
beautiful young creatures of whom I had heard so much, par- 
ticularly since their marriage on the same day had created 
such a sensation : — Caroline Bonaparte's civil marriage with 
General Murat having received the sanction of the Church 
on the same day that Hortense Beauharnais was forced to 
marry the Consul's brother Louis. I will return to this later 
on and give you further details. One of the gentlemen, ac- 
cording to Baptiste, was General Murat himself, besides which 
I noticed Monsieur de I'Aigle, whom I was as much surprised 
to see here as the Prince de Poix. " Oh, oh, messieurs," I 
thought to myself, " how does this fit in with your remarks 
the other evening at Madame de Montesson's? " 

But now my carriage emerged from the avenue, and the 
palace with its wide flight of steps lay before me.. For the 
imposing household of the First Consul it looked lo me de- 
cidedly inadequate; indeed, Madame Josephine said after- 
wards that she would only be there for a few weeks longer 



VISIT TO MALMAISON. 22$ 

and was then going into residence at St. Cloud. General 
Berthier would, in all probability, receive her beloved Mal- 
maison; the Consul was said to have promised it to him. 

I should think, however, that the real reason for the 
change is that Bonaparte has taken a dislike to the place 
since the attempt made on his Hfe a short time ago. A snuff- 
box, almost exactly similar to the one used by the Consul, 
was placed upon his writing-table filled with poisoned snuff. 
Bonaparte, toying idly with it for some time, happened to 
look more closely at the figures on it and noticed some sHght 
differences. The matter was at once investigated and the 
£nuff discovered to be highly poisoned. 
/ On alighting at the Chateau I was received by the maitre 
du palais, who, on my presenting my card, conducted me to 
the Marquis de Coulaincourt. By him I was then ushered 
into a reception room with chairs stiffiy ranged along the 
walls. Several ladies were seated here engaged in lively con- 
versation, among whom, to my renewed surprise, I again 
found some old friends. 

The first to hurry towards me was Madame de Campan. 
Mon Dieu, the things that had happened since I last saw the 
governess of the Royal children in the Temple ! Was it con- 
ceivable that she should have forgotten it all and accepted 
a place in Madame Josephine's household ? But the first 
words she whispered to me as she embraced me tearfully dis- 
pelled this thought./ She told me that she had a girls' school 
in St. Germain-en-!Laye in which Hortense Beauharnais had 
been educated, and that she had come to-day with some of 
Hortense's former schoolfellows to congratulate her on her 
marriage. These young ladies she proceeded to present to 
me — a most striking, dark-haired American, called Eliza 



224 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

Murray, and two charming sisters, Adele and Eglee Augnier. 
I also made the acquaintance of Madame Savary, the grace- 
ful Madame Junot, and Madame Hamelin, who, after Madame 
Tallien, is the most noted of our Mervilleuses. Edmee had 
already told me of her eccentric and ultra-modish toilettes, 
and to-day she wore an under-petticoat of white satin with 
a tunic of green silk crepe trimmed with gold spangles and 
fringes, while a gold-embroidered green bandeau was wound 
through her hair. The costume was somewhat bizarre, but 
became her admirably. She is about thirty and in the full 
bloom of her beauty, with a pair of glowing dark eyes, a 
charming little mouth with rather full red lips, a complexion 
like ivory, with a delicate peachy flush on her cheeks. Her 
fair white brow is framed in naturally waving, unpowdered 
golden hair gathered into a Greek knot behind, from which 
the most fascinating little curls peep out inquisitively. I de- 
scribe her to you so particularly because she is one of Madame 
Josephine's most intimate friends and has much influence over 
her. 

And who was there besides? Four young ladies of whom 
I should never have believed it. The Marquis presented them 
to me under a decidedly peculiar title, "' Madame de Re- 
musat," he said, " and Mesdemoiselles de Talhuet, de Lucai, 
and de Lauriston, four ladies appointed by the Consul to assist 
Madame in doing the honours of the palace.'" — I must say, I 
did not think to find Adele Talhuet and Eglee Lucai here as 
Josephine's Maids of Honour — for of course that is the plain 
meaning of the ambiguous title — after all I heard at Madame 
de Montesson's, 

And you should have heard the fluttering and whispering 
among the ladies when the Marquis pronounced my name! 



JOSEPHINE'S EARLY LIFE, 22$ 

From their manner I plainly read the question — " What is she 
doing here? — ^we thought she was long since dead." I felt a 
hundred years old, and could not but smile sadly as I realised 
what an enormous gap even nine short years can make in a 
life! However, I took my dear little god-daughter Adele 
Talhuet joyfully in my arms and welcomed Eglee Lucai as a 
daughter of my old friends. Both had grown up to be beauti- 
ful dark-eyed girls. 

We then seated ourselves and waited. 

Dear me, how little I thought, ten years ago, that I should 
ever sit waiting thus in Josephine Tacher's ante-chamber! In- 
voluntarily I fell to dreaming of the past and recalled how sur- 
prised every one was at the little Creole's good fortune — there 
was already a good deal of gossip in circulation about her life 
before she came to Paris— in being chosen by the Marquis de 
Beauharnais for his wife. Their happiness was short-lived, 
however, and they had not been married five years when there 
were rumours of the Marquis divorcing his wife for her dis- 
creditable behaviour. In any case, they had lived apart a long 
time when the Marquis' fate overtook him and he was guil- 
lotined in company with the Prince of Salm-Kyrburg and that 
unfortunate Baron Trenk, whose romantic love story with 
Frederick the Great's sister Ulricke you once told me. — We 
none of us could discover from what source Madame Josephine 
derived her income afterwards. She spoke of a large in- 
heritance in Martinique, but she lived in most indiflferent cir- 
cumstances. Edmee was telling me only a few days ago how 
she had met the lady at that time in the house of Claude de 
Beauharnais, Comte des Roches Baritaud, whose wife, when 
Josephine appeared in a marvellous robe of pale blue velvet, 



226 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

had declared to Edmee that Josephine possessed five gala 
dresses but only two chemises. 

The position of the beautiful Creole was, as you see, a 
very doubtful one under the old regime, and I am sure Bona- 
parte might have made a better match had he consented to 
unite himself with the aristocratic party in those days. 

Be this as it may, his choice seems to have turned out well, 
for every one agrees in saying that her life now is quite with- 
out reproach, and whether he married her out of calculation 
or not, he certainly was madly in love with her afterwards. 

I was awakened out of my dreams by a movement among 
the ladies, who now all stood up as the Marquis opened the 
door of an adjoining salon and entered it. There was a brief 
pause and then a knock on the parquet floor of the same room 
— yes, Annaliebe, just as in the old days of Royalty! The 
doors were then thrown open by two gentlemen-in-waiting in 
petite temie, and preceded by the Marquis and followed by her 
cousin Madame de Valette and her son Eugene, Madame 
Josephine made her entry. 

Let me say, en passant, that I have seldom seen a more 
pleasing and sympathetic face than that of this youth of 
twenty. He is remarkably handsome, very graceful and 
elegant in his movements, and has more the air of the grand 
seigneur of former times than the modern Incroyable. 
/ I had withdrawn somewhat behind the other ladies in order 
to have a good look at the much talked of beauty, the all-pow- 
erful Madame Josephine, who could sometimes bend the iron 
will of the great Consul. 

What, I thought, is there no such thing as Time the De- 
stroyer? Have the years passed over her without leaving a 
single trace? — Standing there against the background of vio- 



DESCRIPTION OF JOSEPHINE. 22/ 

let velvet portiere, she seemed to me the very same girl I had 
met years ago at the house of Talleyrand's cousin, Madame de 
Casaux. 

Her waving chestnut hair may have become somewhat 
thinner with time, but who is to say now-a-days where nature 
leaves off and art begins? Her peculiar ivory-pale complex- 
ion, which I remembered of old, may have grown a little faded 
and yellow, but I was unable to judge, for the red and white 
was so artistically mingled and laid on that her skin was like 
lilies and roses. But the charming mouth, the bewitching, 
slightly retrousse nose, the almost night-black eyes with their 
long lashes and the glance that flashed out so strangely at 
times were unaltered; and her voice has a most enthralling 
sweetness. Her figure is, if anything, more beautiful than 
ever; she is slender and yet admirably round, and no tight 
lacing trammels the grace and freedom of her movements. 
Altogether, she reminds one in her languid exquisite grace of 
a full-blown rose — a rose that must ere long drop its petals. 

I wish I could show you the portrait Edmee possesses of 
her, painted by Gerard; — the wanton, straying curls, the 
coquetry of the glance — it is herself with all her alluring faults 
and charming weaknesses. I hear that this picture is to be re- 
produced, and if so you shall have a copy, though the en- 
graving unfortunately gives one no idea of the colouring. 

But I had no more time to observe her, for she was ap- 
proaching me. Before the Marquis could mention my name 
she hurried forward with outstretched hands — " Oh Cecile," 
she exclaimed, " can it be really you? Surely there was no 
need of all this formality before seeing one another? Why 
have you waited so long? — I expected you ever since I heard 



228 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

of your arrival in Paris." And with that she drew me up from 
my deep curtsey by both hands. 

I must own that I was completely won by her irresistible 
charm of voice and manner and responded in the same tone, 
and you know, my Annaliebe, that if I want to make myself 
very agreeable I generally succeed — at least, so you have often 
told me, you dear little flatterer. 

Madame Josephine then drew me down beside her on a 
sofa and whispered rapidly — " You have come about the res- 
titution of your family property, have you not? I will speak to 
Bonaparte about it. You need have no fear — it shall be ar- 
ranged," and she took my hand in her small slender ones, on 
which the red marks of the recent wounds were still visible, 
and pressed it affectionately. 

" Of course the decision lies in Bonaparte's hands," she 
continued when I tried to express my thanks. " He will wish 
to talk it over with you personally. I expect him back from 
Lyons very soon and will do all I can for you with the Consul. 
Yes, mesdames," she said, turning to the other ladies, '' I was 
dreadfully anxious about the First Consul, especially as I could 
not accompany him this time as I invariably do. Lyons with 
its excitable, revolutionary elements was bad enough, but to 
have this crowd of Italian deputies added, who want to sub- 
mit their list of possible presidents to Bonaparte's approval, 
frightened me, so that I have hardly closed my eyes the last 
few nights. However," she went on with a brilliant smile, 
" my fears were, thank Heaven, quite unfounded — once again 
my star zvatched over Bonaparte. I have just received news that 
the matter is successfully concluded. I am sure you will con- 
gratulate me, ladies, when I tell you that Bonaparte has ac- 
cepted the Presidentship himself; he is now the Ruler — I mean 



THE NEW FANCY WORK. 229 

of course," she corrected herself hastily, " the head of the 
Cisalpine Republic as well as our own." 

We all rose and offered her our congratulations in due 
form, and again I had good occasion to observe the tact and 
charm with which she said something pretty and appropriate 
to each lady in turn. She is really fascinating, an'd though 
now that I was quite close to her and realised how much of 
her charming appearance was due to art and a consummate 
knowledge of how to make the utmost of her waning beauty, 
I perfectly understood the glamour she exercises over the 
Consul and indeed every one with whom she comes in contact. 

She was good enough to beg me to spend the rest of the day 
with her and sent one of her carriages at the same time for 
Edmee to join us. I must admit, dear Annaliebe, that I was 
by no means unwilling to stay — no one could withstand the 
extraordinary charm of this woman — and she promised us a 
treat in the shape of a delightful little play, " Les fausses con- 
sultations," to be acted that evening in her small private theatre 
by her two children and several friends. 

We then repaired to an adjoining salon, decorated entirely 
in blue, and the ladies grouped themselves round Madame in 
front of a delightful, glowing fire, laughing and talking in the 
pleasant unrestrained manner that made me think of our 
never-to-be-forgotten cercles in the Petit-Trianon. Most of the 
ladies were busily employed with a kind of fancy work which 
was quite new to me. They had a quantity of real gold threads 
which they knotted and twined into all sorts of charming de- 
vices, such as chains and bracelets. The goldsmiths provided 
delicate clasps and fastenings expressly for this work, a little 
box full of them standing for general use on the table. These 



230 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

clasps are of the most fragile filigree work in highly artistic 
designs. 

Observing my interest in the work, Madame Josephine sent 
for a packet of gold thread and wove it rapidly with her clever 
little fingers into this dainty bracelet which I have much 
pleasure in passing on to you, dearest, as a memento of a very 
important day in your friend's life. 

Looking round upon the company, I could not help think- 
ing of the old ladies at Madame de Montesson's and wondered 
what they would say if they saw me sitting here. And then I 
recalled Talleyrand's prophecy : " You will see — they will all 
come — all." And after all, why should they not? Do I lower 
myself in any way when I accept my family possessions again 
from the hand that struck down the wretches who tore it from 
me? 

Nor can my fidelity to my beloved Royal House be in any 
degree diminished by my associating now with those who 
dragged my country out of the moral slough into which it had 
sunk, and raised it to a position which excites the wonder and 
envy of the whole world. 

I make this little declaration now, dear heart, lest you 
should think me fickle and disloyal. But you will have noticed 
that with each letter my admiration for the man who has 
evolved a new world out of chaos increases. I still cannot 
grasp how this foreigner, this Corsican, has managed to cast 
such a glamour over this nation of mine, otherwise so jealous 
of its rights. Well, I suppose it is because he follows the old 
plan of giving them "pancm et circcnscs," and that goes a very 
long way here. 

Please be so kind as to read my quotation very particularly 
to the Herr Doctor Vultejus, that he may see how little I have 



JOSEPHINE'S KNOWLEDGE OF HUMAN NATURE. 23 1 

forgotten of what he taught me. I trust he will accord me due 
appreciation. 

But to return to our cerde. I had to give Madame 
Josephine many details of my life in Prussia. You would not 
believe how well informed she is on the subject of your 
country, and as to Queen Luise, she spoke of her with positive 
enthusiasm. 

It interested me very much to observe how rapidly things 
are drifting on towards a Monarchy. Madame Hamelin told 
me of an incident in the Italian wars which was new to me, il- 
lustrating this tendency very vividly. When, on the conclusion 
of peace, the Milan ecclesiastics asked the General how he 
wished to be received on his entry into the city, he replied: 
" come Imperatore." And this was five years ago! A fond, 
proud smile lit up Josephine's features at this anecdote; she 
said nothing, but her eyes beamed as if she already saw the 
crown upon her husband's head. I expect she is well aware 
of his plans for the future. 

Altogether, she shows a remarkable knowledge of human 
nature and has the most skilful — though perfectly graceful — 
knack of drawing out her companions. Madame de Campan 
whispered to me that one must be careful what one said before 
her, as Madame Josephine was fond of entertaining the Consul 
with any anecdote or little scandal she could gather from the 
conversation around her. 

Presently the famous painter Isabey was announced, and 
I was not a little interested to meet this favourite artist. He 
is a man of about thirty, with an intellectual and handsome face 
and very engaging manners. He regretted not seeing Madame 
Murat and Madame Hortense, with whom he daily plays a 
game of " jeu des barres." 



232 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

Meanwhile it was time for the Dejeuner, and several of the 
ladies took their leave. Madame de Campan remained, how- 
ever, with her pupils, also Madame Hamelin, the four dames 
d'atour, Eugene Beauharnais, and Isabey, whom Madame 
Josephine invited to share the meal. 

I took advantage of the departure of the other ladies to 
have a little conversation with Adele Talhuet and to ask after 
her parents. Poor little Adele, who with her soft dark eyes 
and glowing tints looks the thoroughbred Vendeenne she is, 
told me her sad story, and how she, a daughter of the Chouans, 
came to be in the service of the Consul's wife. Pressing fondly 
to my side she told me how her old father, like mine, had fallen 
a victim to the Terror and her mother had remained for a long 
time in hiding with relations in the Vendee. When the fright- 
ful conflict between the Vendeans and the Government troops 
under Bernadotte broke out, Madame Talhuet fled with her 
daughter to Holland, where she lived for some years in great 
penury, supporting them both by the labour of her hands. On 
Bonaparte's appointment to be First Consul, she returned to 
Paris and made ah sorts of attempts to earn money, but with- 
out success — things seemed only to go from bad to worse. At 
length, she turned in despair to Madame Laetitia, Bonaparte's 
mother, who procured her an audience of the First Consul. 

This interview chanced to take place on the day following 
the attempt on Bonaparte's life with the infernal machine. The 
First Consul received Madame Talhuet in the presence of the 
Minister of Police, Fouche. As she stood trembling before 
the all-powerful Consul, trying to find words in which to ex- 
press her humble petition, she suddenly had the happy in- 
spiration to congratulate the General on his fortunate escape. 
The Consul smiled kindly, and then turning to Fouche said, 



BONAPARTE AND MADAME TALHUET. 233 

in his brusquest manner — "What do you say to that? Madame 
is an aristocrat; she belongs to one of the highest famiHes of 
the Vendee, and yet she ofifers me her congratulations on my 
deliverance from death. Spare me, in future, these everlasting 
insinuations against the Vendeans, who have absolutely noth- 
ing left to them but their firm loyalty to their King, for whom 
they fight like heroes. You will find no hole-and-corner 
assassins amongst them. It is your Jacobins who are the 
traitors, the skulking murderers, and not the Vendeans ! " 

The Consul then granted Madame de Talhuet a pension 
and placed Adele in Madame Josephine's Household with a 
salary of 8000 francs. This, she said, enabled her to assist 
her dear mother as well, and she was sincerely grateful to 
Bonaparte. Madame Josephine, too, was extremely kind to 
her. 

So you see, dear Annaliebe, this strange man seems to 
have a heart in his breast, after all. 

Adele's story of the misery she and her mother endured 
in exile, and indeed most of the accounts I hear of the emi- 
grants, poor things, makes me more and more thankful for 
my inexpressible good fortune in falling into the hands of such 
true and tender friends as you, my dear ones. How can I 
ever repay you for the great gift of happiness you bestowed 
upon me! 

And now, my sweetest Annaliebe, I must close this volu- 
minous epistle or I shall never be able to send it off at all. I 
will reserve the rest of my description of my day at Mal- 
maison for my next letter. Adieu, dearest heart. 
Ever in undying affection 

Your Cecile. 



234 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

The Chateau of Malmaison was last year put up for auc- 
tion in a state of utter dilapidation. Bought by Napoleon in 
1789 for 100,000 francs, it was not presented to General Ber- 
thier, as the foregoing letter states, but remained in Jose- 
phine's possession as a sort of dower-house. After her death 
it went to her son, Duke Eugene Beauharnais, and on his 
demise was bought by a Swedish banker for 250,000 francs. 
Queen Christine of Spain acquired the Chateau in 1842, from 
whom Napoleon III. bought it for the sum of 1,500,000 
francs and presented it to the Empress Eugenie. It was par- 
tially destroyed during the siege of 1870 and now, divided 
into thirty lots, sold by auction. Sic transit gloria mundi ! 

The promised portrait of the Empress Josephine, as also 
the filigree bracelet made by her, were among the posses- 
sions of my great-grandmother. Both were left by her will 
to the sister of my grandfather von Liideritz (husband of 
Philippine von Alvensleben). I do not know if they are still 
in existence. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 
TWELFTH LETTER. 

Paris, 2d Ventose XI. 

My beloved Annaliehe: 

I have let a week pass before continuing my account of 
my day at Malmaison, and I have seen and done much that is 
interesting and worth telHng you in between, so I will begin 
at once before my material gets beyond all due limits. 

I think I left off in my last just where we were going in to 
the dejeuner. We went standing about in groups, when the 
lacqueys suddenly threw open the great folding doors and 
two ladies entered whom I at once recognised as the fair riders 
I had seen in the avenue. Madame Hortense at once flew to 
her mother and embraced her tenderly and then greeted us 
with a pleasant bow. Josephine then presented me to both 
ladies, who each had a Httle graceful remark for me. 

As you may imagine, it was to Madame Hortense that my 
sympathies were more especially drawn, and her beauty and 
charm attracted me from the first. She has her mother's deli- 
cate, spirituelle features, only that the aquiline nose, night- 
black eyes and dark hair give the face a different character. 
She has a great air of distinction which, with the aquiline 
nose and classically rounded chin, she probably inherits from 
her father's side, 

235 



236 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

But on her sweet young face there lay a shadow of gentle 
uncomplaining melancholy which probably is to be traced to 
her compulsory union with Louis Bonaparte, for whom, they 
say, she always felt an invincible dislike. 

Of course there are numerous stories in circulation as to 
the reason. According to one, her regard for her stepfather, 
the First Consul, amounts to positive idolatry, and there is 
no doubt that he is most fondly attached to her and that 
great sympathy exists between them, but that the feeling — on 
either side — exceeds the proper Hmits of their relationship is, 
from what Edmee tells me, a mahcious invention spread 
abroad by a few persons in high position who ought to know 
better. 

Another and certainly more probable story is that she 
has for years been deeply in love with General Duroc, Bona- 
parte's adjutant. The handsome officer is said to have re- 
turned the feeling, but whether he fancied it was hopeless to 
aspire to the hand of the First Consul's daughter, or whether, 
as Bonaparte's favourite officer, he looked still higher, suffice 
it to say he waited and waited till finally Bonaparte gave Hor- 
tense to his brother Louis. What the Consul's reasons were 
for this unequal union it would be difficult to understand, for 
he must have known them both well enough to be aware of 
their entire lack of compatibility. 

Louis Bonaparte is said to be clever and by far the best 
educated of the brothers and, when he likes, both kind-hearted 
and of pleasing address, but the fatigues and hardships of his 
military campaigns added to his many debauches have ruined 
his health and made him of a melancholy, not to say hypo- 
chondriacal, turn of mind, in strong contrast to Hortense's 
lively temperament. 



MADAME HORTENSE AND MADAME MURAT. 237 

Her very natural distaste for him led, in the first weeks 
of their marriage, to some highly conspicuous passages be- 
tween them, and Hortense is even reported to have fled from 
her husband one night and taken refuge with the Consul in 
the Tuileries, and it was only by using the utmost severity 
that Bonaparte finally induced her to return. Nevertheless, 
the relations between the couple continue to be of the worst, 
and Hortense has now been living for weeks past with her 
mother in Malmaison. 

Bonaparte's youngest sister, Maria Annunciata Caroline, 
has been the wife of General Murat for two years, but, owing 
to the unsettled state of ecclesiastical affairs, had never re- 
ceived the sanction of the Church. At Hortense's very quiet 
marriage in the chapel of the Palace, the Consul determined 
to let his sister share the priestly blessing, and Cardinal 
Caprara performed both ceremonies on the same day. On 
this occasion Bonaparte is said to have remarked to the Car- 
dinal that this was the last private religious ceremony which 
should be performed in his family, he should very soon wit- 
ness some splendid public ones ! I wonder if he meant his 
own re-marriage to Josephine? It is impossible to say; but 
there is no doubt that he is taking steps to restore the Church 
to its legitimate position in the State. 

Madame Murat, who is barely twenty, has the faultlessly 
regular features of a classical statue and a lovely bright com- 
plexion, and is as gay and lively as poor Hortense is the re- 
verse. Both ladies were still in riding dress with redingotes 
of black cassimere opening over red silk vests and carried 
their large felt hats in their hands. 

Their cavaliers, having meanwhile changed their riding 
costumes, now entered, and you should have seen the Prince 



238 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

de Poix's droll, astonished face when he caught sight of me — 
his surprise at my presence here was quite as great as mine 
on first seeing him. However, we only exchanged an amused 
smile and kept our thoughts to ourselves. 

On presenting me, Madame Josephine added the somewhat 
astonishing remark, ime vieille amie a moi. We then repaired to 
a large oval dining-room, decorated and furnished in the very 
latest style, where the dejeuner was served. Behind each chair 
stood a lacquey in magnificent green and gold livery. Madame 
Josephine was pleased to appoint me a seat at her left hand; 
General Murat sat on her right and Madame Hortense beside 
him. Next to me sat Madame Murat, and the Prince de Poix 
was at Hortense's other side. Thus I had General Murat for 
my vis-a-vis and had a good opportunity for observing this 
famous warrior. He is about thirty-five, and deserves the 
popular epithet of " le beau Murat " in so far as regular 
features, a red and white complexion, flashing black eyes, and 
bushy whiskers entitle a man to be so described. But do you 
know whom he reminded me of ? The agent for the wine-mer- 
chant in Mainz who came once a year to Kalbe and always 
amused us so much with his would-be elegant manners. I 
took a dislike to Murat from the first moment. He cannot 
conceal his low origin, and was formerly so frenzied a Repub- 
lican that he altered his name to that of Marat, his more than 
questionable ideal, and came to the fore and was made a Gen- 
eral during the Terror. With his sharp eye for the main 
chance, he soon attached himself to Bonaparte's rising for- 
tunes, and has undoubtedly served him well and given fre- 
quent proof of courage and resourcefulness. He has accom- 
panied Bonaparte on all his campaigns, and was mainly instru- 
mental in dispersing the Council of the Five Hundred. In 



DESCRIPTION OF MURAT. 239 

short, he is one of the most faithful followers of his great 
brother-in-law, and may be said to have helped him to his 
present position. 

Not that he has omitted to help himself at the same time. 
Edmee says that as Governor of Milan he amassed a fortune 
of many millions of francs. He and his lovely wife inhabit a 
magnificent palace and live in princely style. No doubt he has 
a great future before him, but he strikes me as an irretrievable 
egoist, and in his shifty eyes, which never look you straight 
in the face, duplicity is written in plain characters. 

His costume was almost grotesque in its extravagance, and 
I remembered how the Prince de Poix had alluded to him one 
evening " tout ce qu'il y-a du plus Franconi." And that is just 
what he looked like — a circus-rider. He wore a short, black, 
heavily braided Polish jacket, red trousers, and high boots of 
yellow leather, while his jet-black hair hung in ringlets over a 
white embroidered collar. 

Then you should have seen his self-satisfied airs and the 
boastful manner in which he spoke of his military prowess till, 
had I not been incontestably assured of his great merit as a 
soldier, I should certainly have taken him for an unmitigated 
fanfaron. Nor does the fair Madame Caroline seem wholly 
blind to her husband's failings, for I noticed that while he told 
his self-glorifying stories she shrugged her classical shoulders 
disdainfully and a supercilious smile played round her beauti- 
ful lips. 

What with the Prince de Poix's wicked face opposite and 
the glances he threw at me from time to time, I could scarcely 
restrain my laughter, and admired Josephine greatly for the 
tactful patience she exercised towards her bombastic brother- 
in-law. 



240 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

Hortense took little or no part in the conversation and sat 
for the most part with dreaming eyes fixed on the distance. 
Was she thinking of the handsome Duroc, I wondered? 

There was a good deal of talk about the illness of General 
Leclerc, the husband of Bonaparte's eldest sister Pauline. He 
had been sent out, a little while ago, with an expedition to St. 
Domingo, where he seems to have concerned himself more 
with his own private advantages than those of the State. Gen- 
eral Murat remarked that he expected his brother-in-law to 
return as the richest man in Europe; Branchi, the great real 
estate agent, had been with him (Murat) only yesterday and 
said that General Leclerc had commissioned him to buy 
property in the Dauphinee to the extent of six million francs. 
" If he dies now," he added with a cynical laugh, " our dear 
Pauline can buy herself an entire Princedom here in France; 
she certainly will have money enough and to spare." 

You have no idea of the concentrated spite of his tone as 
he said this; one could see that he was simply devoured with 
envy of his brother-in-law's good luck ! 

The conversation then turned on the Consul's journey to 
Lyons, and various interesting remarks were made on the 
Constitution he had given his new Republic. Murat then pro- 
ceeded to give the details of Bonaparte's election, by which he 
had become President over two RepubHcs. — " I wonder," he 
added with a sarcastic smile," how long he will remain so?" 

This, at last, seemed too much for Madame Josephine, and 
with a glance of disapproval at the General, she put an end to 
his indiscretions by rising from the table. 

On our return to the salon we found my Edmee. She was 
most cordially received by Madame and the other ladies, and I 



NAPOLEON'S FATALISM. 24 1 

seized the first opportunity to give her a hurried outHne of the 
promises made me by Josephine, which pleased her greatly. 

The afternoon being bright and sunny, Madame proposed 
that we should take a little walk through the grounds, where- 
upon Edmee, Madame Hamelin, and I accompanied her, while 
the others went off to their '' jeu de barres." 

The paths in the beautiful park are kept as smooth and 
clean as a parquet floor, so I was relieved of all anxiety as to 
my fine train. We had strolled about the grounds for some 
time, Madame Josephine pointing out the various improve- 
ments she had made, and at last entered the broad avenue that 
leads to the plain of Ruel. Josephine was just telHng me how 
much she regretted having to leave Malmaison, when she sud- 
denly stopped and held up a silencing hand. 

I looked at her in surprise. Profound silence reigned 
around us, only broken by the solemn strokes of the church 
bell in Ruel ringing for afternoon Mass. 

" Do you hear those bells? " she whispered softly, and the 
whole expression of her face seemed to change, to become al- 
most devotional. I could not understand why the tones of 
these simple village bells should make such an impression on 
her, especially as she had no great reputation for piety. "Do 
you hear them ? " she repeated. " Those are Bonaparte's 
bells!" 

"The Consul's bells?" I asked in surprise, thinking per- 
haps he had presented them to the church. 

" Yes — you know he is so fond of the sound of bells, and 
I have stood here many times with him listening to them," she 
explained fondly. "They affect him so strangely," she went on, 
" that I can hardly understand it — sometimes even to tears — 
and he does not like me to break the spell by speaking. He is 



242 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

quite vexed that I cannot feel the same about it as he. I fancy 
the bells remind him of his youthful days at Brienne, where he 
was so happy. Altogether, his spiritual side is a most peculiar 
one; he believes firmly in a supernatural world all about us, ex- 
ercising its influence upon every human life." 

The bells died away and we proceeded on our walk, but I 
was much struck by her words. Who would ever have credited 
this cold and impassionate man with such imaginative power 
and feehng? 

We then returned to the Chateau, and while waiting in the 
drawing-room till it was time for the promised theatricals 
Lucian Bonaparte and his wife arrived. As you may imagine, 
I was immensely interested to meet this man, who is said to 
be the most crafty and astute of all Bonaparte's brothers. It 
was he, they tell me, who gave Napoleon the hint as to the 
most opportune moment at which to return from Egypt; he 
also played an important part in the coup d'etat that followed. 

I must confess, however, that I was greatly disappointed 
in his appearance. He bears a certain family likeness, of 
course, to the First Consul — it is the same antique Roman 
type — but with his short, squat figure and general air of living 
too well, he looks like a well-to-do corn dealer or small shop- 
keeper, and his common-looking, much-bejewelled wife forms 
a worthy pendant to him. He too is said to have amassed an 
enormous fortune, for the most part while he was ambassador 
in Madrid. It cannot be an easy task for Madame Josephine 
— who certainly looked like a princess beside this sister-in-law 
— to associate comfortably with these queer relations of her 
husband's, but so far as I could see she managed them all with 
the most perfect tact and seems to be on an excellent footing 
with them all. 



END OF THE VISIT TO MALMAISON. 243 

The little comedy, in which Hortense and Eugene Beau- 
harnais took the chief parts, could not have been better acted 
by the most skilled professionals and fully deserved the hearty 
applause it got. It was immediately followed by dinner, a 
somewhat noisy meal, at which Monsieur Lucian drank a great 
deal of wine, but also told us some very interesting stories of 
his stay in Madrid. 

We took our leave at about 9 o'clock, Madame Josephine 
repeating her assurances to help in my affairs directly Bona- 
parte returned. 

Thus ended my visit to Malmaison. The small events of 
the last few days I must defer till my next letter; this one has 
spun itself out to an unconscionable length, but I knew the 
subject would interest you particularly. My fondest love to 
you and yours. 

Cecile. 

The scene referred to by the Baroness, in which the un- 
happy Hortense fled, on the night of her marriage, to the 
Tuileries, as well as other stories maliciously spread abroad 
about her, may probably have given rise to the report that 
Hortense's son, Louis Napoleon, afterwards Emperor, was the 
son of the great Napoleon. There is absolutely nothing to 
justify this scandal, which is also emphatically refuted in the 
Memoirs of the valet Constant. 

Bonaparte's adjutant Duroc had every opportunity of bit- 
terly regretting not having secured Hortense Beauharnais' 
hand while there was yet time. Three years afterwards, when 
Hortense had long been Queen of Holland, he married the 
daughter of a wealthy Spanish banker, a Signora Hervas 



244 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

d'Almenara, a capricious, scatter-brained little person, who 
led him a dreadful life. 

On the death of General Leclerc Pauline Bonaparte mar- 
ried Prince Borghese, and taking her fabulous wealth to Italy 
led a life of the most extravagant luxury. Her classical beauty 
has been preserved to us in a statue by Canova, in which she 
is represented as Tizian's Venus Victrix reclining on a couch. 
The original is in the Villa Borghese in Rome, and a very good 
copy by Hesemann in the Museum in Hanover. 

The Baroness's judgment of Murat is amply borne out by 
later history. Napoleon made him King of Naples, but he was 
the first to desert the Emperor when his fortunes waned and 
side with Napoleon's enemies in the hope of retaining his 
crown. His treachery met with its due reward, for being taken 
prisoner in the attempt to regain his lost kingdom, he was 
called before a Court Martial and shot. 

A second glaring instance of ingratitude to Napoleon was 
furnished by General Bernadotte whom, partly for his old love, 
Desiree Clary's sake, he had heaped with benefits. He too be- 
trayed and deserted his Emperor's cause, but, more fortunate 
than " le beau Murat," managed to retain his throne. 



CHAPTER XXV. 
THIRTEENTH LETTER. 

Paris, 12th Ventose XI. 

My Annaliebe, I am really quite ashamed to think that my 
last two letters were full of nothing but my visit to Malmaison; 
but, in truth, one of my reasons for going so much into detail 
was that I was thinking of the circle of dear good friends to 
whom you tell me you read my epistles aloud. 

I can see them all so plainly — the good Pastor puffing at 
his long pipe and listening so earnestly to your every word; 
Aunt Kroecher having a war of words with Uncle Briest over 
this or the other personage in my letter or some opinion 
brought forward by me. I can see Uncle Briest's disapproving 
shake of the head at any word of praise from me for the per- 
son or the actions of the First Consul, whom, you remember, 
he always called the " lawless son of the Revolution," and then 
the fierce clash of Aunt Kroecher's knitting needles as she 
turns upon her ancient foe with " But, Monsieur Briest, that 
last remark of yours was hardly tenable, I think." How often 
we have laughed to see her throw down the gauntlet and chal- 
lenge Uncle to mortal combat over an opinion in which, not 
five minutes before, she had agreed with him entirely. What 
an endless pity that, when Aunt Kroecher became a widow, 
these two did not marry! They could neither of them ever 

245 



246 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

have complained of dulness, nor, on the other hand, would 
they have been the least unhappy, for, at the bottom of their 
hearts, these two delightful people are very fond of each other. 
Perhaps then the old name would not have come to end with 
Uncle — there would have been a son to carry it on. — Imagine, 
my dear, if you can, the child of these two opposite natures! 
But for Heaven's sake don't read this passage aloud — I should 
never get over the outcry it would cause. — I will put a mark 
against it so that you may be warned in time. 

I would give anything to be able to see you all, to arrive 
suddenly in your midst instead of my letter. When, I wonder, 
shall I see you again, my dearest? — Not for some time yet, I 
fear; I must first await the result of my audience with the Con- 
sul. He is still away and seems to be occupying himself in 
Lyons with his Italian subjects, or rather their representatives, 
longer than Madame Josephine expected. And now they say 
he is going on to Toul from Lyons, and when he does return 
there will be first the re-establishment of the Church and then 
the many fetes in connection with the confirmation of the Con- 
cordat, so that who knows when the great man will find a 
moment to spare for poor little me and my private petition? 

Edmee takes care that time should not hang heavy on my 
hands, and arranges so many entertainments for me that I 
often long for the peace and quiet I used to enjoy with you. 
What will you say to your grave and retiring Cecile having 
been to a ball the other night? — as an onlooker only, of course. 
Edmee had not breathed a word of it and I had not the least 
idea of what was coming after the charming little souper at 
Madame de Fontenay's, where the amusing Prince de Poix 
was once more my neighbour, when the couples suddenly ar- 
ranged themselves for the dance. 



TALMA AS ORESTES. 24/ 

What a long, long time it is since I saw gay young couples 
such as these footing it so merrily! Besides, so much of it 
was quite new to me, so that I watched with additional interest. 

The Polonaise, Franqaise, and Minuet were danced, and 
an English country dance and Scotch reel as well, but how the 
Landler or Swabian country dance, which even the least 
prudish of moralists could not but decry as utterly indecent, 
has found its way into this circle I fail to understand. Your 
German valse, my dear, does not make much headway here, 
the mamas taking exception at the attitude. So a compromise 
has been made by giving two ladies to each gentleman or two 
gentlemen to the lady, thus preventing the dangerous tete-a- 
tete and the unseemly arm about the waist ! And mama is re- 
assured. It is a pity that the all-prevailing Grecomania which 
has given us so many artistic improvements has not brought 
the pantomime dances, which are sometimes produced here 
on the stage, into society as well. For instance, in the Theatre 
Royal — as it is still called — the other evening we saw 
"Ariadne and Bacchus," a pantomime after Xenophon, in 
which the most exquisite dances occurred. 

As we are on the subject of dancing I will add a word about 
the dresses. They are airier and more transparent than ever, 
and the long train shows no sign of diminished popularity, in 
spite of the mishaps that constantly occur at balls when they 
wind themselves in Laocoon folds about the legs of the gentle- 
men, with results which are better imagined than described. 

The evening before last we saw the great Talma — his first 
appearance since his return from Italy — as Orestes in " Iphi- 
genia in Tauris." The theatre was filled to the very last 
place, and it was fortunate that Edmee had taken our tickets in 
good time. I was of course looking forward with intense in- 



248 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

terest to seeing this actor of whom I had heard so much, and 
v/as distinctly disappointed when he first came on the stage, 
for though his features are regular and of the antique Roman 
type, he is small and insignificant and his movements, in the 
beginning, very languid and uninteresting, doubtless as a re- 
sult of his recent illness. However, as the play went on, he 
v/armed to the part and soon exhibited a fire and passion which 
thrilled his audience to the marrow; in fact, he was so carried 
away by his emotional excitement that one almost feared for 
his health. Yet, in spite of his passion, his movements were so 
dignified and withal so entirely natural that involuntarily one 
seemed transported to the classical days of which the drama 
treated. It seemed incredible, watching his youthful fire and 
the elasticity of his movements, that the actor should be nearly 
sixty years old. 

Edmee tells me that the Consul thinks very highly of him 
and is almost on terms of intimacy with him; also that Talma 
often gives him hints for his deportment in public. 

Hearing Bonaparte spoken of on every occasion and 
wherever I go, it seems quite strange that I should have been 
here four months and yet never seen him properly, — for both 
in the theatre and at the parade he was too far away to afiford 
me anything but an indistinct impression. You know, Anna- 
liebe, that I am not precisely shy and that the presence of great 
people does not alarm me, but I must frankly confess that with 
Bonaparte's reputation for always acting as one least expects, 
I am decidedly nervous at the prospect of this audience. — 
Well, after all, he is not superhuman, and if he refuses my peti- 
tion, he refuses, and there is an end of it. I shall have done 
all that lay in my power, and for my personal happiness 
Heaven knows I do not require more than I already possess. 



EXTRAVAGANT LUXURY IN DRESS. 249 

After the theatre, in order to calm our excited nerves and 
bring ourselves back to the level of every-day life, we drove 
to Frascati's, a place of which Monsieur de I'Aigle had given 
me such a glowing account that I begged Edmee to take me 
some time. It stands on the site of the Rochefoucauld's former 
magnificent palace and is surrounded by a great garden illu- 
minated by thousands of coloured lamps. We were lucky 
enough to chance upon Monsieur de I'Aigle as soon as we ar- 
rived, and he kindly did the honours. The ground-floor of 
the house, which has been built by a private individual, con- 
sists of a suite of ten or fifteen large rooms, all brilhantly 
lighted and decorated with garlands of flowers. Ice and sorbet 
only are sold here and are of the very best quality, of which 
we were able to judge for ourselves when our gallant cavalier 
took us out into the garden and had it brought to us there. 
The company becoming somewhat noisy as the night wore on, 
we very soon left and returned home. 

In my day it would have been out of the question for ladies 
to be seen at a public resort of this kind, but^ as I said before, 
great changes have occurred here which may, no doubt, be 
ascribed to the enormous influx of strangers, particularly of 
the English, into Paris. 

You ask me with regard to the great luxury displayed here 
by the elegantes in their dress, if they are all so rich as to be 
able to pay for it. Edmee tells me that there certainly is a 
great increase of wealth, but the most extravagantly lux- 
urious people are those who have succeeded in amassing for- 
tunes as purveyors to the Army during the wars. Many, how- 
ever, had managed to enrich themselves by the Revolution, 
and among these, I am sorry to say, Edmee mentioned several 
names belonging to the noblesse, who, while singing the 



250 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

praises of Liberty, had taken every opportunity of increasing 
their fortunes at the expense of others more quixotically 
honest. Let me horrify you by giving you a list of Madame 
Tallien's yearly expenditure set down the other day by some 
ladies who know her intimately. I call it a deplorable evidence 
of the length fashionable folly will go: 

365 head-dresses, capotes, and hats 5,000 frs. 

2 Cachemire shawls 600 " 

365 pr. shoes 600 " 

250 pr. silk stockings 3,000 " 

400 robes 20,000 " 

12 chemises 300 " 

Red and white face paint 150 " 

2 veils 2,400 " 

Corsets, wigs, reticules, umbrellas, fans, etc. 3,000 " 

Essences, perfumes, elixirs 800 " 

Bijoux and other ornaments 5,ooo " 

Furniture — Greek, Roman, Byzantine, 

Persian, Egyptian, Gothic 30,000 " 

6 horses (2 for riding) 10,000 " 

Dancing master 3,000 " 

One bed 15,000 " 

Theatres, concerts, etc 10,000 " 

Charity 100 " 

108,950 frs. 

" O vanitas vanitatum vanitas! " Eh, Dr. Vultejus? How 
can one woman possibly use all these things! 

Ever, my dearest heart, your faithful 

C. 

This time, for once, the Baroness was wrong in her esti- 
mate of character. Talma was no more faithful to his Imperial 



TALMA'S FAITHLESSNESS. 2$ I 

friend and patron than the others whom Napoleon benefited. 
When Napoleon was banished to Elba and Talma appeared 
before the new King Louis XVIII. in the Tuileries, he said 
with an air of servile flattery : " I greatly prefer a kind word 
from your Majesty to a pension from a Bonaparte! " 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

FOURTEENTH LETTER. 

Paris, 226. Ventose XI. 

My own dear Annaliebe: 

The great event is over! But before I give you any details 
let me at once relieve your mind by telling you that I have 
come ofif victorious — Mont-Courtot and Retrazet are mine 
once more, are settled on me personally by the First Consul's 
express command. 

And now let me proceed to give you a full account of the 
extraordinary incidents that happened to me in the Tuileries 
yesterday — so extraordinary, that when I compare my position 
before the audience with that of to-day, I can scarcely believe 
it is not all a dream. 

Last Friday came the order to present myself before the 
First Consul at midday yesterday in the Tuileries. Of course 
I found that many changes had taken place in the Royal palace 
since I was last there. The centre " Pavilion," built by Kath- 
erine de Medici and Henri IV., which connects the two 
wings of the palace, is now used as the Salle des Marcchals. 
T^e left wing contains the private apartments of the First Con- 
sul and Madame Josephine when they happen to be in resi- 
dence here, and the right wing all the official rooms, the 

Council Chamber, the Chapel, the Theatre. 

252 



THE AUDIENCE WITH NAPOLEON. 253 

The Adjutants, the Prefet du Palais, and the Com- 
mandants of the Consular Guard are lodged in the former 
" Pavilion des enfants de France," looking on to the Rue de 
Rivoli. 
f I had to pass through a suite of rooms, the doors of each 
of which were opened for me by two lacqueys in green-and- 
gold-embroidered coats and black velvet knee-breeches. Ar- 
rived at the last salon, I was received by the newly appointed 
Chamberlain Monsieur de Remusat, who conducted me to the 
ante-chamber in which a number of persons of all conditions 
were already assembled. It was quite a pleasure to me when 
among that crowd of strange faces my eyes suddenly lighted 
on Talleyrand leaning negligently in one of the deep windows. 
A flash of recognition passed over his sallow face at sight of 
me, and he at once advanced towards me and whispered, " ]e 
vous felicite." I looked at him blankly. " Your petition will 
be granted," he explained in the same low tone, " for the Con- 
sul never receives any one whose petition he intends to refuse." 

You may imagine my joy at this news! It inspired me with 
a certain confidence, and I felt myself braced for the coming 
ordeal. 

On the stroke of 12, Monsieur de Remusat scratched on 
the door leading to the Consul's private cabinet and then en- 
tered. Shortly afterwards the door opened again and the 
Chamberlain called my name out. The fateful moment had 
arrived; I crossed the threshold and the doors swung to be- 
hind me. 

The Consul was standing opposite the door in front of a 
great marble fireplace in which a fire burned brightly. Rising 
from my deep curtsey, to which he responded with a curt nod, 
I stood up straight and looked at him. / Yes — it was the 

/ 



254 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

Roman Imperator-head I knew so well from the pictures and 
coins, with strands of dark hair falling over the brow. The 
shape of the head alone, with its massive outline and firm 
square jaw, sufficed to warn one that here was no average 
man, and recalled the sculptured heroes of the classic age. 
/ He wore the sumptuous consular uniform which, as the 
Prince de Poix told us the other day, he had devised on the 
pattern of one he saw belonging to his brother Joseph at Mar- 
fontaine. It consisted of a scarlet coat without revers and with 
a wide embroidery of golden leaves up each seam, unusually 
small gold epaulettes, a long waistcoat of white cachemire, 
knee-breeches of the same material, white silk stockings and 
buckle shoes, A sword with a gold hilt and gold and tortoise- 
shell scabbard hung at his side, and on his broad breast glit- 
tered the Star and the other orders of the Legion of Honour 
instituted by him only a few weeks before. In his right hand 
he held a small three-cornered gold-laced hat, with which he 
gesticulated violently at times during the ensuing conversa- 
tion, and in his left a paper, apparently containing notes of the 
person interviewed, as he consulted it from time to time. 

Of course, as you may suppose, I did not see all this in the 
first moment, but I know you will like to have a full descrip- 
tion of the omnipotent man before whom your poor Cecile now 
stood quite alone. 

Letting his large clear eyes rest on me for a moment with 
a piercing gaze, he asked brusquely : " Eh bien, what have 
you come about? '' 

I knew that the Consul was not inclined to be very polite 
to ladies who expressed themselves at any length, and had 
heard besides that he sometimes put the most grossly imperti- 
nent questions, so that, despite the granting of their petition, 



CECILE^S RECOGNITION OF BONAPARTF 255 

they often left the Consul's room in high and justifiable 
dudgeon. Remembering Talleyrand's advice I therefore 
gathered up all my courage and simply replied: " The restitu- 
tion of my family property." 

The great man seemed decidedly taken aback by this 
laconic answer. He threw up his head with a quite peculiar 
movement, turning it a little aside, so that I saw his face al- 
most in profile. He frowned and stuck out his underlip. 

" Of a truth, Madame, I cannot complain that you are too 
prolix — but," and he raised his voice to an angry pitch, " why 
are you staring at me so strangely? I would have you remem- 
ber, Madame, that I am the head of the State, and, as such, de- 
mand to be treated with proper respect." 

But his tone of angry annoyance had no terrors for me 
now. A strange feeling of security had come over me, and I 
felt no trace of alarm at the fierce frown and Imperator-glance 
(as Edmee calls it) of the man who stood so menacingly before 
me. For, vois-tu Annaliebe, no sooner did he give that im- 
perious jerk of the head than a curious change came over me. 
— Even at his first few words, the sound of his voice and the 
peculiar accent carried me back to some long forgotten time,i 
calling up dimly before me a picture I had not thought of for 
years and years. ] I groped in my memory — where had I seen 
that cold stern face, those clear-cut marble features before? 
Then, as he threw up his head and frowned and stuck out his 
underlip, the scales seemed to fall from my eyes, the veil woven 
by the busy years was rent asunder and I suddenly hiew where 
and when this man had played a part in my former life. 

I came a little closer to the All-Powerful Consul, who was 
kicking his foot impatiently against the fender awaiting some 
reply from me, and touching his arm I said with a smile, 



256 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

" Monsieur le Consul, will you permit me to tell you a little 
story?" 

Oh, you should have seen his face, dearest! I am sure he 
thought I must be quite mad for daring to lay my hand on his 
arm and also because his harsh manner only called forth a 
smile from me. 

"Out with it, then!" he thundered, stepping back from 
me, " but waste as few words as possible over it, if you please." 
And once more he fixed me with a searching look, obviously 
uncertain if I were in my right mind. 

So I began in a low voice (I never told you this story, 
dearest Annaliebe): 1 

" It was an evening in July in the year 1783 and I was on 
a visit to Mademoiselle Laure Permon, the daughter of the 
Finance Minister Charles Permon and the Princess Com- 
meene of Corsica, who had a beautiful villa near Brienne in 
the Champagne. I had wandered away by myself into the 
fields to pluck flowers and was so absorbed in my occupation 
that I never noticed a large herd of cattle grazing close by. I 
was nearly seventeen, but a severe illness in my childhood had 
left me small and weakly for my age — " 

" If you intend giving me an account of your life's history, 
Madame," the Consul broke in roughly, " I may as well say 
at once that I have neither time nor inclination to listen to it." 

" Pardon me, Monsieur le Consul," I returned, " I am 
coming now to the point of my story. I had gathered a large 
nosegay," I went on, " when I suddenly heard an infuriated 
bellow behind me, and turning round, saw to my horror that 
an enormous black bull, irritated perhaps by my red parasol, 
was bearing down upon me with blazing eyes and lowered 
horns. 



BONAPARTE AS A BOY HERO. 257 

" I gave one piercing shriek of terror, dropped my flowers 
and fled, as fast as my feet would carry me, towards the high 
road. But the bull rushed after me; I could hear his snorting 
breath. * Help! Help! ' I screamed as loud as I was able. A 
voice answered, and the next moment a pale-faced boy in the 
uniform of the Brienne cadets came running towards me. He 
waved his sword and rushed at the bull from the side, trying 
to divert its attention to himself. But I entirely frustrated the 
boy's plan by flying to him for protection. He called out 
something to me, but I was too frightened to understand, and, 
in any case, it was too late now. The bull reached me, felled 
me to the ground, and I lost consciousness. When I opened 
my eyes my preserver was supporting me with his arm, while 
with the other hand he wiped away the blood that was 
trickling from a wound in his cheek. But the bull was stag- 
gering blindly about the field, the courageous boy having man- 
aged at the last moment to pierce the brute's eye with his 
sword. 

" I began to falter out some words of heartfelt thanks and 
tried to seize my preserver's hand. But he checked me with 
an authoritative gesture and said sternly : 

" * It is extremely silly of girls to run about alone in fields 
where there are herds of cattle — remember that another time.' 
He nodded curtly, and without troubling himself further about 
me ran off in the direction of the College. 

" Maybe you knew that boy. Monsieur le Consul? " I asked 
gently. 

There was a curious light in his dark eyes as if he were 
gazing into his long-forgotten happy youth ; but as he caught 
my expectant look fixed upon him, he frowned and answered 
coldly, " No, I cannot say I remember." 



258 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

Will you believe me, Annaliebe, that I had nothing in my 
heart but kindness for this man? He had saved my young life 
— himself hardly more than a child — at the risk of his own. 
I remembered no longer his fame, his exalted position; I only 
saw the little pale cadet who had rescued me from deadly peril. 
I was deeply moved, but controlling my emotion as best I 
could I murmured, " Monsieur le Consul, may I venture on 
one more recollection of my youth? " 

He said nothing, but nodded his head musingly. 
" About a year after the incident I have just related," I re- 
sumed, " I was once more in the neighbourhood of Brienne 
at the country house of the Marquise de Montesson, a friend 
of my mother's. 

" This lady proposed one day to take me to the Military 
College at Brienne, having received tickets for the annual ex- 
amination of the cadets. It was the custom from time imme- 
morial that the scholars who gained prizes should be crowned 
by the ladies, to which end the guests — this time the Marquise 
among the number — always brought wreaths with them. 

" I was looking forward eagerly to this ceremony, for I had 
never forgotten my youthful preserver and hoped I might now 
see him again. I had never even told my parents of my nar- 
row escape, but had raised an altar of gratitude in my heart to 
the boy — whose very name was unknown to me. What added 
zest to my anticipations was the thought that he would not 
be likely to recognise me, seeing that in this year I had grown 
out of the weakness of my childhood and had become tall and 
strong — a very different creature from the delicate little girl 
of the year before. So with a beating heart I took the wreath 
from the servant who was carrying it and secretly hoped I 
might have the good fortune to be able to give it to my youth- 



NAPOLEON'S BELIEF IN HIS STAR. 259 

ful hero. The wreath was a large and beautiful one, composed 
entirely of laurel leaves." 

I had got so far in my story when I was suddenly inter- 
rupted by a strange sound — half sigh, half exclamation of joy 
— and the next moment the Consul had sprung forward and 
clasped both my hands in his. Overwhelming emotion shone 
in his dark eyes and trembled in his voice when he spoke. 

" So you were that sweet kind girl, Mademoiselle? Oh, 
ask what you will of me, I promise you beforehand to grant 
it — no matter what it is. Will you accept a pension — a post of 
any kind? You shall have your property back — I am more 
than overjoyed to have it in my power to serve you! " 

You may imagine, my Annaliebe, how startled and amazed 
I was at this sudden outburst, this rapture of kindness, from 
the man who, but a moment before, had shown himself so stern 
and unapproachable! I had no answer ready, all I could do 
was to falter without reflection, " Oh, Sire, what have I done 
to deserve this gratitude? " ' 

" What, this too ! " broke in Bonaparte in a tone of meas- 
ureless excitement. " The royal title — for the first time — 
from your lips, my dear, infallible little Prophetess! — And 
once more your words will come true," he continued, with the 
strange, far-away look of a Seer. " Yes, I shall one day wear 
the crown and clasp the Royal mantle round my shoulders — 
now I know it for certain. — You set that laurel wreath on my 
young head in the far-ofif days at Brienne — ^the laurel crown 
that was to be followed by so many others. You whispered to 
me then — 'May it bring you good luck!' and truly it did, as you 
very well know. — I am a fatalist, Mademoiselle, and since you 
have foretold it me, I feel the Crown of France upon my 



26o LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

brow, I see the Sceptre of the great Realm already in my hand ! 
How can I ever thank you enough? 

" But first the restitution of your property — " He seated 
himself at the great writing-table, wrote a few hurried lines, 
rang the bell and called to the Chamberlain, who entered at 
the summons — " Bourrienne." 

I assure you, Annaliebe, I felt so dazed and bewildered by 
the rapid and extraordinary change in the Consul's manner as 
well as by his evidences of amazing superstition, obviously 
uttered in entire good faith, that I sank into a chair and cov- 
ering my eyes with my hand endeavoured to collect my scat- 
tered senses. 

Very soon the door opened and Bourrienne, the Consul's 
private secretary, entered. " Take this paper to the Minister 
Regnier," said Bonaparte, " and tell him to arrange at once 
for the restitution of Mademoiselle de Courtot's property." 
When the secretary had left the room Bonaparte turned to 
me, and holding out both his hands, with a beaming face said, 
" Now was that right — will you consider this as the first fruits 
of my gratitude? " 

I could only bow my head and stammer a few confused 
words of thanks. 

Then, drawing up a large tapestry-covered chair beside his 
writing-table and seating himself in another, he said with a 
smile — " Now please sit down here and let us have a little chat 
about my young days in Brienne, the only really happy ones, 
despite my later fame and splendour, I ever knew. You 
see," he added almost sadly, " I have so few people about me 
in whom I can place any real confidence and stand so lonely 
here upon the heights, that it is an unspeakable relief to be able 
to unburden myself to a friend out of my far-oflf youth. They 



NAPOLEON'S CONFIDENCES. 26 1 

tell me that you are known here as ' la plus Mele des Udeles' 
I trust you to keep all I confide in you now faithfully locked in 
your own bosom." 

So we sat there like two old friends, I leaning back in my 
great arm-chair, the Consul sitting before his writing-table, 
his eyes generally fixed on a painting on the ceiling represent- 
ing the Triumph of Minerva, or starting up from time to time 
to pace the room excitedly. 

I felt myself — as you may imagine — in a very peculiar sit- 
uation, and yet strangely moved as I listened to the great 
man's account of his life. It seemed to me that, excited by the 
unexpected encounter with the person whom, in his fatalistic 
way, he regarded as the augurer of his good fortune, he felt 
an irresistible impulse to unburden his heart of matters which 
he otherwise kept strictly secret. It was in some sort a con- 
fession, during which he confided things to me which moved 
my soul to shuddering admiration, so strangely were they com- 
pounded of the highest and noblest sentiments and the most 
glaring egotism. 

/ Some day perhaps I may tell you something of it; for the 
present I am bound in honour to be silent. I told the Consul 
that I was deeply touched and grateful that he should think me 
worthy of this glimpse into his innermost feelings. 

He had been talking thus to me of himself and his past 
for about half an hour, when he glanced at the clock and broke 
off suddenly, saying a number of people were waiting still to 
see him and that he must therefore take leave of me for the 
present. " But, Mademoiselle," he added, " I have not finished 
yet; you must come here frequently and let me pour my con- 
fidences into your faithful ear ! " 

What could I answer? A strange sense of fear and shrinking 



262 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

had mingled with njy admiration while I listened to the con- 
fidences of this man of might, whose deeds set him among the 
demi-gods of old. The thunder of the World's History rolled 
past me and stunned my brain. I am but a poor weak woman, 
and part of what I had just heard was so terrible, so soul-com- 
pelling that I rather hailed the interruption as a relief. 

I rose. " Let me thank you once more, Monsieur le Con- 
sul, for the honour of your confidence," I said. " Whatever 
you think fit to tell me shall never go any further. And as to 
your faults, the political sins of which you accuse yourself, who 
can judge them by the ordinary standard? The most of them 
are virtues in a ruler. What is commendable in the private in- 
dividual may be the ruin of the Head of a State. It was too 
much goodness that brought your august predecessor to the 
scaffold." 

/* I thank you, Mademoiselle," returned the Consul gently, 
" you have understood me. And now adieu and au revoir." 

He gave me his hand with a winning smile; I curtseyed 
low and left the room. 

I seemed to move in a dream, I saw nobody; I scarcely 
heard Talleyrand's congratulations on the unusual length of 
the audience. And it was not the thought that I had achieved 
my object, that I was restored to ease and fortune that so 
moved me, it was the consciousness that from the plain un- 
assuming woman of yesterday I had suddenly become the con- 
fidante of the most secret emotions of this omnipotent Hero. 

On leaving the Tuileries I made Edmee's coachman drive 
me out into the Bois de Boulogne for a little while to give me 
time to collect my agitated thoughts, and when I finally re- 
turned to my friend, who had become quite anxious at my 
long absence, I told her of my wonderful recognition of the 



NAPOLEON'S MYSTICAL TENDENCIES. 263 

Consul and of the prompt restitution of my property, but not 
a word of the rest. 

When she heard of the Consul's firm persuasion that my 
wish had brought him luck, she said that in that case I had the 
ball at my feet here and could do what I liked with the Con- 
sul. She then gave me other instances of the great man's 
superstition, from which one must infer that he is very mys- 
tically inclined. 

Thus she described how artfully Madame Josephine had 
contrived to work upon these mystical tendencies for her own 
advantage by persuading Napoleon that it was her star that 
controlled his destiny, quoting as her reason for this assertion 
the fortune foretold to her by an old gipsy in Martinique: 
" You will one day be more than a Queen and yet die in a hos- 
pital" 

" More than a Queen " — you see the inference, my Anna- 
liebe? And in truth, I fancy the fulfilment of this presage is 
not far off; the second half of the prediction may yet be made 
clear in the time to come. 

Then here is a rather interesting anagram which Edmee 
gave me to puzzle over and which I enclose for your diversion. 
It runs thus — 

" On a decouvert dans les mots ' revolution frangaise ' une 
anagramme fort singuliere. Voici la maniere de la faire: on 
tire d'abord de revolution franqaise le mot ' veto ' qui s'y 
trouve, et apres qu'on I'a supprime, on reunit ce qui reste de 
lettres et Ton en forme la phrase — ' Un Corse la finira.' " 

I am curious to see how soon Bonaparte will shake off his 
two "shadow" colleagues. There was a very tumultuous scene 
in the Legislative Chamber the other day when one of the 
members ventured to hint at the Imperial Crown being offered 



204 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

to Bonaparte — a certain Monsieur Bougival and his party 
made a frightful uproar against it. Nevertheless, I firmly be- 
lieve the day is not far hence when Bonaparte will be the abso- 
lute monarch of this realm, — whether under the title of Con- 
sul or Emperor is quite immaterial. 

My next step will be to visit my chateau of Mont Courtot 
and take possession of it again. Retrazet, unfortunately, was 
burned down during the Revolution. I hardly think I shall 
rebuild it — Camille must see to that some day. The land is let 
out on lease by the government but the rents are to be paid in 
to me now, beginning from the ist of October last. This is a 
very welcome arrangement; altogether, you cannot think what 
a delightful feeling it is after all these years of straitened 
pecuniary circumstances to be once more a chatelaine and to 
have ample resources at my command. 

The moment I have got Mont Courtot in proper order you, 
my dearest and best of friends, must both of you come to visit 
me. My first errand to-day was to go to Edmee's carriage 
builder, of whom I bought a " berline " to be sent to you in re- 
turn for the carriage you so generously gave me for the 
journey. It will be despatched in a few days. 

And now farewell, darling Annaliebe. I am so thankful to 
have the dreadful weight of the audience off my mind! How 
earnestly I thank God too that matters took such a favourable 
turn for me. My devoted love to you all. 

Cecile. 

The prediction made to Madame Josephine during her 
early girlhood in Martinique has been much doubted; but, sup- 
posing it to be true, the second part may find its explanation in 



NAPOLEON'S STAR. 265 

the fact that the Chateau of Malmaison where Josephine died 
actually was once a Hospital. 

That Napoleon was deeply imbued with the belief in an 
ever active spiritual world is confirmed by the writings of 
many of his contemporaries. Madame de Remusat speaks of 
Bonaparte's love of ghost stories. His true connection with 
the fortune-teller Lenormand has never been explained, but it 
certainly had some spiritualistic foundation. Turquan too 
speaks in his Memoirs of the great weight attached by Bona- 
parte on all occasions to presentiments and dreams, which he 
often allowed to influence his actions. 

Constant confirms the story told in the foregoing letter of 
Madame Josephine and her star. He even quotes her actual 
words to Napoleon : " They talk of your star, but it is mine 
which influences your life, for it was to me the high destiny 
was foretold." 

Later on, as Empress, Josephine had ever the fear before 
her eyes that Bonaparte would cast her ofif for her childless- 
ness, and succeeded in deferring that catastrophe for long by 
assuring him that his good fortune would forsake him if he 
repudiated her. And so, to a certain degree, it actually fell out, 
for Napoleon's fortunes began to wane almost simultaneously 
with his divorce from Josephine and his marriage to Marie 
Louise of Austria. 

Not till Waterloo, however, did Napoleon's firm reliance 
on his star forsake him. When all was lost there, he is said to 
have turned to Coulaincourt with the words, " My star has set 
— I see it no lonsfer." 



CHAPTER XXVII. 
FIFTEENTH LETTER. 

Paris, 3d Germinal XI. 

My Annaliebe: 

I still feel as if I were living in a dream. The extraordinary 
succession of events that have just happened to me, the un- 
expected change of fortune — it quite bewilders and confuses 
me. 

My days pass now in one round of pleasures and entertain- 
ments. Whether the story of my long audience with the Con- 
sul and the subsequent restitution of my property has spread 
abroad and people are curious to see me, I know not, but 
Edmee and I are simply overwhelmed with invitations. These 
alternate with visits to the theatres and other places of pub- 
lic amusement till I feel as if I were living in a whirlpool. 

What a contrast to the peaceful calm of the never-to-be- 
forgotten years spent at your side, my best and dearest! 

But now to tell you something of these gay doings. — A 
few evenings ago we went to the Opera House to see the per- 
formance of a hunting ballet, " La chasse du jeune Henri," 
with Mehul's delightful music. There were about twenty 
horses trotting about the stage at once, and my delighted 
Parisians roared themselves hoarse with applause. 

Next morning Edmee persuaded me to accompany her to 

266 



THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 26/ 

the Pantheon where, amongst many others, I saw the tombs 
of VoUaire and Rousseau. All-conquering Death has wiped 
away the enmity that existed between these two in life and 
there they lie now peaceably side by side. 

These were the men whose writings helped to bring about 
the cataclysm of the Revolution. They have gone to their 
long home, the Revolution is over and done with and — things 
are very much the same as they were before. To what end 
then all that horror and bloodshed ? . . . Oh, it is a strange 
and enigmatical world! 

As to society, one might almost say that the Thames had 
suddenly emptied itself into the Seine. There are over 8000 
sons and daughters of Britannia in Paris just now, and the ob- 
server has many opportunities for making interesting com- 
parisons between the rival nations. 

I should not like to swear that ces dames are without ex- 
ception " Miladies " ; some of them look to me as if they hailed 
from the near neighbourhood of Covent Garden Market, but 
money confers all the distinction necessary in Paris at present. 
There are also several reunions in which Englishmen of similar 
political opinions congregate. The Duke of Cumberland, who 
has taken the charming house of the well-known Dr. Willoun, 
receives the highest English nobility, while the members of 
the Opposition gather round Lord Holland and are much in 
request at Madame de Recamier's country house. 

British Art is also hurrying into Paris — Mr. Kemble, who 
competes with our Talma, and Miss Vinci at the Opera'Bouiife. 
The great Madame Mara too is daily expected from London. 

An exhibition of National Products was held in the Louvre 
lately, and w^hen we visited it we could not but notice how dif- 
ferently the many English present behaved from our own 



268 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

countrymen. While the latter laughed and gossiped and 
seemed to look upon the whole affair merely as an excellent 
opportunity for making bad puns, these foreigners examined 
everything with interested attention and expressed themselves 
most ably on various points of the Exhibition. 

We were in the Theatre Franqais the other evening for 
the debut of a Mademoiselle Duchesnois, who has since be- 
come the rage. The play was Phedre, but my attention was 
much distracted by the Prince de Poix, who shared our loge 
and who persisted in whispering all sorts of nonsense and 
wicked stories in my ear during the performance. There was 
one, for instance, of the crafty Fouche and the trick by which 
he had forced a certain prelate, one of the chief opponents of 
the Concordat, to give his vote for it. This prelate, it seems, 
was intimate with a lady of somewhat doubtful reputation, a 
Madame Visconti, which circumstance Fouche ferreted out, 
and surprising him late one evening with the lady in a very 
compromising situation, he threatened him with publicity and 
so won over an enemy on whom even the First Consul had 
tried his hand in vain. 

The Prince then went on to speak of Bonaparte's appoint- 
ment as Consul for life and his intention of removing his resi- 
dence to St. Cloud, whither his Court choir and Chaplain had 
already preceded him; also that the First Consul had just 
nominated his brother Lucian chief officer of the Legion of 
Honour — perhaps, after all, we should soon have another 
Connetable de France ! And more to the same effect, though 
I could see that he was more cautious than formerly in what he 
said to me, especially on the subject of the Consul, having 
heard of course of the results of my interview with the Great 



THE NEWEST THING IN GENTLEMEN'S HATS. 269 

Man. But you should have seen his droll roguish eyes all the 
time! 

He brought with him the very newest thing in gentlemen's 
hats which I had not seen before — the brim turned up sharply 
back and front against a flattened crown. This shape is called 
" a la Ventinelle " — I do not know why — but I should dearly 
love to see the Herr Candidatus in one, he would look too de- 
lightfully comical! (But, if you love me, do not tell him I said 
so.) With this hat many gentlemen still wear the perruque a 
noeuds, though Bonaparte has long since discarded the fashion. 

In a few days I shall start on my journey into the Vendee. 
What memories it will awaken of my happy untroubled child- 
hood! 

Farewell then for to-day, my own Annaliebe. 

Ever in fondest affection thy 

Cecile. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 
SIXTEENTH LETTER. 

Paris once more, 19th Germinal XI. 

What a long time since you had news of me, amie de mon 
ame! Your last welcome letter was forwarded to Mont 
Courtot and reached me there the day before my return to 
Paris — a long journey for it to make; for my old home is a 
hundred miles further from you than this city. 

These have been days of pleasure, but, as you may imagine, 
fraught with pain, that I have spent in my childhood's home. 
I travelled — in your dear familiar carriage of course — over 
Chateaudun, Tours, and Poitiers, and arrived at my destina- 
tion on the fifth day. Oh, my Annaliebe, can you not imagine 
my feelings when the tower of the Cathedral of Poitiers rose 
before me on the horizon, when I caught the first sparkle of 
the blue Charente and the irresistible glamour of " home " 
began to weave itself about me? There were the well-remem- 
bered leafy woods, the peaceful herds grazing in the pastures, 
and I heard once more the familiar patois which in its mixture 
of Latin and French sounds so unintelligible to the stranger. 
The racial type too is quite peculiar to this part of the 
country, and has remained so unchanged in feature, customs, 
and characteristics since the days of the great migration of 
tribes into the West, that they are still known to the surround- 

270 



CECILE'S OLD HOME. 2/1 

ing provinces as " the Huns." Handsome my beloved country- 
men are not with their large heads, sallow complexion, and 
small twinkling eyes, but in return they are God-fearing and 
faithful unto death, as indeed they proved in the past years. 
They beggared themselves for their King and fought to the 
last drop of blood, and if there had been more unity of pur- 
pose among their leaders — d'Elbee, Jacquelin, Charette, and 
the rest of them — who can tell but what they would have 
driven the Terrorists out of Paris and placed the King upon 
the throne once more? But as things fell out, they have had 
to suffer incredible hardships. After their defeat at Chollet 
the entire population of the Vendee was outlawed. With 
tigerish frenzy the Jacobins slaughtered women, children, and 
aged people, and smoking ruins marked the path of the victors. 
The horrors they witnessed as boys have left indelible traces 
on the faces of the men, and they are a grave and sad-eyed 
people, but they have won for all time their title of " les 
fideles," and here the Bourbons are still kings. Their por- 
traits share with the Saints the private altar you find in every 
house, no matter how small. 

A bitter disappointment awaited me at Mont Courtot. The 
house of my fathers was still standing and my heart beat in 
joyful anticipation of finding things as I remembered them of 
old. But on nearer inspection I discovered that this chateau 
had not escaped the universal destruction which laid waste the 
rest of the country. The walls were intact, but the interior 
was ravaged beyond description — a scene of horror and deso- 
lation — and all idea of living there out of the question. So I 
lodged for two days with the man who has rented the property 
for years and lives at the foot of the castle hill. This tenant 
has certainly made the most of his time! He is one of those 



2/2 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

astute foreigners who swarmed into the country at the time of 
the Revolution, seeking what they might devour. He still 
wraps himself about in a mantle of devotion to Liberty, but, 
nevertheless, is a merciless tryant to his people and universally 
hated. The good old Cure, who only returned some weeks 
ago, told me they were all thankful I regained possession of 
the property just in time to prevent Monsieur le Maitre — so 
my worthy tenant is called — from carrying out his rumoured 
intention of buying Mont Courtot with the money he has got 
by cutting down the wood. Imagine my feelings if I had ar- 
rived here to find this man in full possession of the lands of 
my forefathers ! Of course, I took the first opportunity of get- 
ting away from this intolerable hospitality, and going over to 
Poitiers, went to a notary recommended by the Cure and 
placed my affairs in his hands. Monsieur le Maitre at once 
received notice to quit, and it will not be long, I trust, before 
Mont Courtot will be restored to its former condition of com- 
fort and beauty. What I should have done without the assist- 
ance of the good Cure I really do not know. In any case, 
some six months must elapse before the chateau is habitable, 
and I must look out for a trustworthy man to perform the 
duties of steward. 

How thankful I should have been for some advice and 
assistance from your clear-headed husband or Uncle Briest! 
I am so terribly ignorant in all business matters and had not a 
soul I could consult. I hope I may soon have the joy of hear- 
ing that you think favourably of my plan of your all coming 
over to stay with me as soon as Chateau Courtot is at all pre- 
sentable. 

I returned to Paris the way I came, only making a slight 
detour in order to visit Chateau Trellissac. I will not open up 



MARIE ANTOINETTE'S FURNITURE. 273 

the old wounds, dearest, — no need to tell you what my 
emotions were on seeing the dear spot again where I had spent 
many a happy hour as a child with my lost love! The ancient 
castle is in ruins like the rest, but the splendidly wooded park 
— our favourite playground — is but little changed. Tearfully 
I bade farewell to this grave of some of my happiest memories 
and turned my face once more towards Paris. 

Edmee received me with open arms and at once handed 
me a missive from the Conseiller d'etat Benezeth informing me 
that the Consul desired my attendance to-morrow at St. Cloud. 

In the forenoon of the following day a coach with four 
horses arrived to fetch me to the palace, and in it sat my god- 
daughter Adele de Talhuet, whom Madame Josephine had 
thoughtfully sent to bear me company. 

Madame welcomed me first in her apartments, when I took 
the opportunity of thanking her for her good offices in further- 
ing my cause with Bonaparte. Her husband, she told me, had 
given her an account of our mutual recognition, and she ex- 
pressed herself as delighted that the Consul had had some one 
to talk to of the happy old days in Brienne. 

The Chateau is really very fine since its restoration, though 
the government has had to pay a pretty sum from first to last — 
over a million francs I believe. The apartments were magnifi- 
cently furnished and decorated, though somewhat too gaudily 
for my taste, 

Madame Josephine presently took me into her exquisite 
boudoir — a surprise from the Consul on leaving Malmaison. 
It is entirely hung — walls as well as windows — with rose- 
coloured and white silk. The first moment I entered the room 
I was struck by the strangely familiar aspect of the furniture — 
all delicate carving and gilt, and covered with rose-coloured 



274 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

silk embroidered in darker shades with here and there a glint 
of gold thread; then catching sight of the sphinxes that formed 
the arms of the chairs, I recognised with a sharp pang the 
whole amcublemcnt . It was from the private apartments of my 
sweet Queen Marie Antoinette in the Trianon! Josephine 
admitted the truth of my surmise, adding that that was why 
Napoleon's present had given her so much pleasure. Alas 
that the owners should go and the inanimate objects remain! 

Well, we seated ourselves in the dainty chairs we both had 
seen before under such very different circumstances and con- 
versed on old friends and new events, many of Josephine's ex- 
tremely candid remarks reminding me of Madame de Cam- 
pan's words the other day when she declared that Madame 
only did this to lead people on to similar frankness. There- 
fore I was very guarded in my replies. 

At one o'clock Benezeth appeared to conduct me to the 
Consul, who greeted me with the utmost cordiality, and made 
me give him a full, true, and particular account of my journey 
and its results. The state of affairs in the Vendee interested him 
greatly, and I could see by the questions he put to me how ex- 
haustive was his knowledge of all matters concerning the 
country in general. 

Afterwards, he begged me to be seated, as he wished to 
continue his account of his life. And thus, my Annaliebe, 
passed another hour which I may count as one of the most im- 
portant in my life. Once more I was filled with admiration 
and yet with fear of the man who had raised himself by sheer 
force of intellect and indomitable will to such heights as 
probably no man has ever reached before, but trampling 
mercilessly on every obstacle, be it friend or foe, that barred 
his upward progress. 



BONAPARTE IS TOLD OF HECTOR. 2/5 

Possibly the Consul read something of this in my face, for 
he suddenly rose from his chair, laid a hand on my shoulder, 
and said kindly: " Now, you see, I have frightened you. But 
do not be afraid; my heart has room for gentler emotions too, 
as you will discover in time. I have told you so much about 
my past," he went on in a lighter tone, " supposing now you 
tell me something of yourself and the experiences you went 
through. I know that you were the inseparable companion 
of the unfortunate Princesse de Lamballe and that you were 
condemned to death; how did you manage to escape?" 

So I told him in as few words as possible of my wonderful 
rescue by Hector, my flight into Germany, and my quiet happy 
life with my dear friends. The Consul nodded his head 
musingly. " Yes," he said, " these Prussians are a strong and 
loyal nation; I should like to have them for my allies. Ah," 
he added, returning to the subject of the Terror, " Paris was 
one great madhouse in those days, but I shall take good care 
that such a thing does not happen again. I shall keep those 
Jacobins down with a strong hand ! " 

The period of my audience was at an end, for Monsieur de 
Remusat now announced the Minister Talleyrand. The Con- 
sul rose, and going to his writing-table said, " By the way, 
what did you say was the name of your brave fiance who met 
his death in rescuing you? " 

" The Vicomte Hector de Trellissac," I answered in a low 
voice. " Ah, then a Vendean, too? " observed Bonaparte, evi- 
dently writing the name on a sheet of paper. Then, turning to 
me and holding out his hand — " You hear, Mademoiselle, that 
Talleyrand wants me, so our conversation must be interrupted 
for to-day. I hope, however, to see you again ere long. To- 
morrow the solemn function of the re-establishment of the 



276 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

Church takes place, which I daresay you would like to see. I 
will have a place reserved for you in Notre Dame. Adieu, 
my dear confidante, and au revoir! " 

I curtseyed and departed, the Consul's carriage again being 
placed at my disposal. 

And so, my Annaliebe, there was an end of my second au- 
dience with the great Consul, during which I got a still deeper 
insight into the character of this most unique man. Perhaps 
some day I may be able to give you an account of it by word 
of mouth. 

The next morning — the first celebration of Easter Day for 
nine years — the church bells rang in the day of the restoration 
of the Church and her doctrines. The Pope has been obliged 
to consent to the curtailment of the number of Festivals, only 
Easter, Whitsuntide, the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, 
and All Saints' Day being retained, but otherwise the position 
of the Church is very much as it was before the Revolution. 

As the clock struck 11 one of the state carriages arrived 
to carry us (my invitation had been extended to Edmee) to 
the Cathedral of Notre Dame, the whole road being lined 
by thousands of spectators. We were received at the 
door by de Remusat, who conducted us to a platform to the 
right of the Choir. These platforms, of which there were sev- 
eral, all richly draped as well as the entire nave of the 
Cathedral, were already filled to overflowing and the clergy in 
full canonicals were assembled at the altars. 

Oh, my Annaliebe, it did one's heart good to see the great 
Cathedral once more thronged with reverent people and 
decked in all its stately ornaments. Could this be the same 
church which had been the scene of so many shameless deeds 
in the past years ; where the vile mob and its leaders had danced 



CEREMONY' AT NOTRE DAME. 277 

round the high altar howHiig impious songs to the Goddess 
of Reason? So low had it fallen that only ten years before 
Beaumarchais boasted to the King's very face that he would 
have his Figaro performed in Notre Dame if he were forbidden 
the theatres 1 

To-day the mighty columns were festively decorated, the 
pictures of the Saints were in their old accustomed places, and 
white-robed acolytes swung their censers at the various altars. 
And now the thunder of sixty cannon boomed out over the 
city, the majestic tones of the great organ rolled through the 
edifice and mingled with the jubilant shout which rose from the 
thronging multitudes, the massive portals of the Cathedral 
swung slowly back, and, accompanied by a regal suite of Min- 
isters, Generals, and foreign Ambassadors, Bonaparte entered 
the Cathedral. The assembled clergy received him with great 
pomp of incense and the sprinkling of holy water and con- 
ducted him to his place under a sumptuous baldachin in front 
of the chancel. 

There he stood, his General's uniform looking plain and 
unpretentious beside the gorgeous, gold-laden uniforms of the 
various State and Military officers, and yet every eye was ir- 
resistibly drawn to that impassive clear-cut face, stony and 
inscrutable as Destiny. In spite of his insignificant stature the 
man looked every inch a king. — It was with strangely mixed 
feelings — half proud, half fearful — that I reflected that this 
man with whose name all France — nay, all Europe — was ring- 
ing should have held me worthy to obtain a glimpse into his 
innermost soul, should call himself " my friend." 

It was a study to watch his absolutely unmoved demeanour 
while the Archbishop of Aix extolled him and the new gov- 



2/8 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

ernment to the skies — the same Archbishop who crowned 
Louis XVI. 

The ceremony did not last very long. Again the cannons 
roared, and amid prolonged and deafening shouts of " Vive 
Bonaparte — Vive le premier Consul ! " the Omnipotent One 
drove back to the Tuileries, where a grand gala-dinner took 
place. 

All this will interest you greatly, and I know that you re- 
joice with me that my afifairs have taken so lucky a turn. 
Ever in unalterable devotion, 

Your Cecile. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

SEVENTEENTH LETTER. 

Paris, 5th Floreal XI. 

" Rest in the Lord — wait patiently for Him, 
And He shall give thee thy heart's desire." 

You remember, my Annaliebe, how dear old Uncle Briest 
comforted me with those words years ago — and oh, how right 
he was, the good staunch-hearted man! For my heart's de- 
sire has been granted me-^ — in full, in overflowing measure, till 
I can only clasp my hands and pray in deepest gratitude 
and humility, " Oh my God, make me worthy of the joy Thou 
hast brought to me." 

/ Annaliebe, my Hector lives — God has given him back to 
me! 

But let me begin from the very beginning. We were in- 
vited yesterday evening to a large assembly at the house of the 
Marquise de Noailles in the Faubourg St. Germain, but did 
not start till pretty late because the streets were very crowded 
and noisy, the return of the troops from Egypt having occa- 
sioned great rejoicings. Companies of soldiers marched 
through the streets, colours flying, bands playing; the Consul 
had held a grand review at the Tuileries, after which he dis- 
tributed a number of decorations among his brave old compan- 

279 



28o LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

ions in arms and several officers had been promoted. These 
gallant sun-burnt warriors were the heroes of the day, and 
even invaded the exclusive circles of the Faubourg St. Ger- 
main, several of its members having entered the Army of 
Egypt to fight for their country under Afric's burning sun. 

Well, as I said, it was somewhat late before we reached the « 
Palais Noailles and the rooms were already filled with guests. -' 
The Marquise, on receiving us, said she could promise us a 
variety of entertainment for the evening. She had engaged the 
celebrated " mystificateur " Duguesclin for the amusement of 
the young people, and also expected her nephew Victor 
Noailles with several of his brother officers from the Egyptian 
Army, who would doubtless entertain us with stories of their 
experiences in the Wonderland of the Pyramids. 

Entering the salons I was soon hailed on all sides with 
congratulations on the agreeable turn of my fortunes, those 
of the guests to whom I was a stranger begging to be pre- 
sented for that purpose. Among those I knew were the old 
Abbess of Abbeville and her niece Lady Tollendal with two 
pretty daughters, the Due de Liancourt and Princess Therese, 
Madame de Sabatier, Comtesse Montesquieu, and of course 
the ubiquitous Prince de Poix. 

When " Monsieur le mystificateur " arrived presently the 
youngest Tollendal came to me and begged me to join in the 
games. I do not know how it was — perhaps a presentiment of 
coming happiness — ^but I felt gay and young that evening as 
I had not done for years, and acceded to the pretty creature's 
request, though I had no business by rights in that frolicsome 
galere. 

This game of " mystifications " has become very popular 
here and was talked of that evening in Malmaison, though it 



THE GAME OF MYSTIFICATIONS. 28 1 

is really very childish — much the same as " the stool of peni- 
tence " our Phillinchen used to play with her little friends. 
Here each player is seated in turn in front of a large mirror 
into which he gazes and has to guess the meaning of the scenes 
depicted behind him by the others, representing a word, a 
line of poetry, a bon mot, etc. If he guesses correctly — which is 
of course made as difficult for him as possible— he receives a 
prize; if not, he must pay a forfeit. 1 

The ingenious originator of the game being present him- 
self, the choice of words and pictures was particularly mys- 
tifying, and the company enjoyed themselves hugely over the 
extraordinary mistakes that very naturally occurred. 

Luck had favoured me so far, and I had always managed to 
guess correctly, when, late in the evening, it came to my turn 
to seat myself once more in front of the mirror. 

While I waited for the development of the enigma, I 
amused myself by gazing into the curious vista which pre- 
sented itself before me. The long suite of rooms was open, 
the great folding doors thrown wide, and at the extreme end 
of the enfilade hung another large mirror, exactly opposite the 
one into which I was looking, thus producing an effect to the 
eye as if the rooms stretched away indefinitely into the dis- 
tance. 

While I was engaged in following out this optical delusion, 
I suddenly saw an officer in the becoming uniform of the Chas- 
seurs appear at the extreme end of the vista. 

He was evidently no longer young, his hair and moustache 
were gray, and a glittering Order hung on his breast. A great 
scar ran from the bronzed cheek right up over the high fore- 
head and a black shade concealed the left eye, but the other 
one was large and dark and the nose handsome and aquiline. 



282 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

I cannot describe the strange impression this officer made 
on me coming out of space like a ghost and advancing towards 
me through the long line of rooms, apparently unknown to the 
groups of gentlemen standing about, who gazed after him in 
astonishment. He came slowly nearer and nearer, that glow- 
ing dark eye fixed upon me in the glass. 

Oh, Annaliebe, when he entered the salon next to the one 
in which I was seated a cold shiver ran through me, as when 
something apparently supernatural confronts one.. A mys- 
terious spell seemed to emanate from that figure, which re- 
minded me so strangely of one who lived only in my heart and 
memory. 

I started from my chair, clasping the arms with convulsive 
fingers, and leaning far forward gazed with fixed and staring 
eyes into the depths of the mirror. What was it? — could the 
dead arise? — was it a phantom, the apparition of my lost lover? 
Edmee and the other ladies, alarmed at my strange behaviour, 
hurried up to me. " Cecile, Cecile," cried my friend, " what is 
it? What is the matter? " 

At the mention of my name I saw a smile of beatitude pass 
over the man's features. I turned round — saw two arms 
stretched out to meet me, and with a cry of " Hector — my 
Hector! " sank fainting on his breast. 

But my unconsciousness lasted only a few moments. 
Opening my eyes again I saw the beloved face bending over 
me, and the very words he whispered when he rescued me 
from death trembled on his lips once more. " Cecile, my 
Cecile, have I found you again?" "Yes, Hector," I cried, 
throwing my arms round his neck, " and this time never to 
part again 1 " i 

The entire company had hastened in from the other rooms 



HECTOR. 283 

and gazed bewildered at this extraordinary scene. They did 
not know that two people who had each thought the other 
dead had now come together again after long weary years. 

" But who is this strange officer? — how did he come here? 
— does anybody know him? " were the questions asked by sev- 
eral of the gentlemen. Suddenly through the confusion came 
a clear ringing voice — " Ah, mais c'est le colond Hector! Mon- 
sieur le colonel, je voiis salue, but where did you spring from ? " 
and Victor de Noailles hurried forward with outstretched 
hand. 

" What! " exclaimed my lover with a beaming smile, " do 
none of you recognise me? — at least only this one? Have I 
really to tell you my name ? Well, then, I am Hector de Trel- 
lissac, and Cecile de Courtot here is my fiancee ! " 

Their astonishment beggars description. At first they 
woud not believe that the valiant Colonel Hector of the 
Egyptian Army and their dear friend and cousin the Vicomte 
de Trellissac whom they had long counted dead were one and 
the same person.. Then of course they overwhelmed us with 
joyful congratulations, and I assure you the reunion of this 
old pair of lovers will long remain a tale of wonder and amaze- 
ment to them all. 

Paris, 7th Floreal. 

My Annaliehe: I was interrupted in my letter to you by 
Hector — you will not be vexed with me, I am sure. Our 
abiding friendship can in no wise be altered by my great hap- 
piness; on the other hand, you can well imagine how much we 
have to say to each other. 

I am hardly used to it yet, my heart has not yet accustomed 
itself to the thought that it has really found him again, my be- 



284 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

loved, my long lost. Oh Annaliebe, what it was to wake on 
the morning after and to remember — he is alive — you have 
found him once more! The joy is almost more than I can 
bear. I still cannot help thinking it is a dream, and yet there he 
stands, my beloved, my Hector, and draws me to his warm 
and faithful heart. 

You will ask, dearest, how it all came about — his recovery 
from the jaws of death and subsequent career, so I cannot do 
better than describe the happy conversation that took place 
between us yesterday, letting Hector speak for himself. 

We went down into Edmee's beautiful grounds behind the 
palace and seated ourselves on a secluded seat under the mag- 
nificent old trees. A flood of morning sunshine bathed the 
smooth green lawns, the roar of the great city came muffled 
to us out of the distance, and the bushes close by were alive 
with a fluttering, twittering crowd of little birds. It was like 
a fairy tale. I had awakened from my long deep sleep and the 
Prince was beside me. 

Hand clasped in hand we sat together, and Hector began 
his story. 

" That blow which felled me to the ground, my Cecile, de- 
prived me of consciousness, out of which, however, I was soon 
roused by the trampling of the crowd. I must have rolled then 
to one side and come under the cart, nothing else could have 
saved me from being trodden to death by the terrified mob. 

" Here I must have been found later on and taken to a hos- 
pital, but I know nothing for certain, the blackness of night 
lay upon me. That blow had struck out one of my eyes and, 
for a time, injured my brain — my memory was utterly gone. 

" Long weeks and months passed before I regained some 
gleam of consciousness, but a heavy cloud still lay over my 



HECTOR'S STORY. 285 

mind, and my memory did not return. I was alive — ^that is all 
you can say, but the past was a blank. At times when I felt 
the bandage over my eye or caught sight of myself in the little 
mirror of my sick-room I would ask myself puzzled, ' Who are 
you and how did you come here?' But I found no answer, 
I had forgotten my very name and passed my days in fruitless 
ponderings. There was no one who could enlighten me; my 
only attendant was aged and half-witted, and to the taciturn 
old doctor who occasionally visited me I was a total stranger. 

" About a year must have passed in this way, when the 
veil began slowly to lift, your dear name, my Cecile, came back 
to me and with it the full consciousness of my terrible loss. I 
knew that I had failed to save you, that you had fallen a victim 
to the executioner." 

Here I broke in on Hector's story to ask if Tancred d'Au- 
bignac had never brought him news of my rescue, but he said 
he had never seen nor heard of him again; he, too, must have 
been swept away by the all-devouring flood of the Revolution. 
r " By the time my mind had slowly recovered its balance," 
he continued, " and my bodily strength in some degree re- 
stored, the Terror was over and the Directoire reigned in its 
stead. 

" At last I was discharged from the hospital and managed 
to make my way on foot, by slow and painful stages, into the 
Vendee. There I took part in the struggle against the Re- 
publican troops, but when Charette concluded peace with Gen- 
eral Hoche and so put an end to the fighting I felt that my 
occupation was gone. My property was sequestrated, the 
chateau of my fathers in ruins; you, my beloved, were dead — 
what was life to me any longer? I saw the misery of my down- 
trodden people, saw the hopelessness of their cause; I myself 



286 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

was a half-blind beggar, relations and friends I had none — all 
had been swallowed up in this accursed revolution. _ Despair 
took hold on me, and thoughts of death by my own hand be- 
gan to creep into my mind. 

" Once I thought of joining the Army of the Allies, but 
the reports that reached me of the doings of the Comte 
d'Artois and the other Princes in Coblenz disgusted me; be- 
sides, I could not make up my mind to side with strangers and 
fight against my own country. I was at the end of my re- 
sources. — It was then I first heard of the Expedition Bona- 
parte — the inscrutable man who had already begun to revive 
the honour of France — was planning for Egypt and deter- 
mined to join it, hoping to die there fighting for my country. 
Laying aside my family name, I entered myself simply as Hec- 
tor, and joined the 4th Regiment at Toulon as a common 
chasseur. \ 

" Of course, the idea of serving as a private was not alto- 
gether pleasant to me, a former officer of the Garde du 
Corps, but I was indifferent to the hardships or discomforts 
of this life — my hopes were all centred on another world ! " 

Need I say, my Annaliebe, that I had to interrupt my lover 
somewhat at this point? 

Presently he continued : " I was in the thick of the light- 
ing from the beginning; was made officer at the Pyramids and 
Captain at Jafifa. After the battle of Abukir Bonaparte him- 
self nominated me Colonel for my — as he was pleased to say — 
splendid bravery. Ah, it is easy enough to be daring when 
one has nothing to bind one to this world. But, as generally 
happens in such cases, not a bullet ever touched me — I seemed 
to bear a charmed life. 

" At this, my first personal encounter with the great Gen- 



HECTOR AND BONAPARTE. 28/ 

eral, he asked me with a searching glance, ' Your name is Hec- 
tor? ' 'Yes.' 'Only Hector?' 'Yes,' I replied. Then I 
suddenly bent forward and whispered — curious to see what he 
would say, for I was quite indifferent to the possible results of 
my revelation — ' But it used to be Hector de Trellissac and I 
was one of the Chouans! ' 

" Without a moment's hesitation he held out his hand. 
* Mon brave,' he answered, ' that is no detriment to you in my 
eyes,' and with a nod he passed on along the front. 

" Do you know, Cecile, from that day I began to take an 
interest in life again and to share the enthusiastic worship of 
the Army for this marvellous young General whose military 
genius led it triumphant over the apparently insuperable, till 
his own firm reliance on his star had come to be the unswerv- 
ing belief of the whole Army. 

" The day before yesterday when the First Consul called 
-his old officers of the Egyptian Army round him — how we had 
missed him in the last few years! — to distribute the decora- 
tions, I was amongst them. As he conferred the new Order 
of the Legion of Honour upon me, he took me gently by the 
ear and whispered : ' Mo7i brave, you have relations in the Fau- 
bourg St. Germain — you would do well to go and see them this 
evening. You will find a dear friend there who will be de- 
lighted to see you, saluez-la de ma part.' He gave me a friendly 
nod and with a ' Bonne chance, mon colonel! ' passed on. 

" For the first moment I was puzzled, then, like a flash, 
came the thought, the certainty, that you and you alone could 
be the dear friend he alluded to. I did not pause to wonder 
how he came by his knowledge — we had always credited him 
with supernatural powers of divination — the moment I was 
free I hastened to my cousin's house and there, sure enough. 



288- LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

I found you, my darling, found my long-lost, ever-regretted 
happiness!" 

Thus Hector's story ended — but, oh, Annaliebe, what 
words shall describe the joy that the good God has at 
last poured out upon me with so generous a hand! Not only 
has my dear love been restored to me — he has remained as 
true to me as I to him. Oh, the bliss to know that I am still 
his all in all ! „^ 

r 

And how handsome is my Hector, and, in spite of the fierce 
heat of Egypt, so strong and well ! I positively love that eye- 
shade too — does it not remind me every moment of what he 
has sacrificed for me? And then he had the audacity to ask me 
if I did not think the bHnd beggar too poor a match ! 

I had to tell him all about you, my dearest, best of friends ! 
He could not hear enough and bids me tell you he means soon 
to thank you personally for having taken such devoted care of 
what the flatterer is pleased to call his Heart's Delight. 

While we were still sitting together in the garden, we were 
joined by our good Edmee, who is quite beside herself with 
joy at our happiness. Hector then suddenly enquired how the 
Consul came to tell him of my presence here, seeing that he 
was unacquainted with me? " What, Colonel ! " cried Edmee, 
throwing up her hands, " she has not told you ? Why, your 
fiancee is one of the most influential women in France just 
now." 

You may imagine my Hector's astonishment when he 
heard the story; but he quite believes in Bonaparte's sincerity 
in the matter, having seen many proofs in Egypt of the man's 
deep-rooted fatalism. 

As to the future, my Annaliebe, all we have decided upon 
as vet is that we shall be married as soon as possible, probably 



CECILE'S MARRIAGE. 289 

a few weeks hence. But to think that I must forego the hap- 
piness of having you with me then, dearest, though I con- 
gratulate you with all my heart on the reason, disappoints me 
more than words can say. — We shall have to come and see you 
soon instead, that you may convince yourselves of my un- 
speakable happiness. Besides, I want Hector to know all the 
dear people who were so heavenly kind to me, a forlorn 
stranger. 

Whether we shall settle at Mont Courtot is also an open 
question just yet, but one thing I sincerely hope, and that is 
that Hector will consent to leave the army. He has done 
enough for France surely. I feel I can never let him out of 
my sight again as long as we both live. 

But our correspondence, my Annaliebe, shall in no wise 
sufifer by my new happiness. Our friendship is for all time, 
nothing can ever alter that. 

And now, sweetest friend, farewell; you will let the others 
know of the great blessing that has been vouchsafed to me. 
Give them all my dear love, and you, my darling, rejoice with 
your happy, happy 

Cecile. 

The interesting family event to which Cecile alluded in her 
letter occurred on the nth of July, 1802, when a boy was born 
to the von Alvenslebens, who received the name of Werner. 
On the same day Colonel Hector de Trellissac and Mademoi- 
selle Cecile de Courtot were married in Paris. Their wedding 
present from Annaliebe and her husband, as described in my 
great-grandmother's diary, was a large silver tray engraved 
with the Alvensleben-Loe crest and underneath it the dear old 
Manor House at Kalbe with the inscription " Cecile's Home." 



290 LETTERS FROM THE BARONESS. 

The wedding took place very quietly in the Duchess 
Edmee's palace, the Consul Bonaparte being represented by 
Monsieur de Remusat. 

These details are given in a letter from the Vicomtesse de 
Trellissac dated from Mont Courtot the 12th Messidor. At the 
close she says : 

. . . We are in the seventh heaven here, my Annaliebe. 
To see the old familiar faces about me, to live in the dear home 
of my childhood, the one love of my life beside me — what 
more could heart desire? Write me very soon how you are get- 
ting on. Adieu, my Annaliebe, and once more our fondest 
congratulations to you and your Werner on the arrival of the 
dear little boy; also our renewed thanks for the lovely present. 
Yes, you are right, my darling, the dear familiar house was 
" Cecile's home," her only one, for long, long years! And we 
two know that each has her home in the other's heart. 

My Hector sends remembrances to you all; he is so grate- 
ful for your endless kindness to me and looks forward as 
eagerly as I do to meeting you. My love to all the dear friends, 
but especially to your Werner and sweet Phillinchen. Oh 
Annaliebe, how unutterably happy is 

Your Cecile! 

This letter is the last of the collection. My great-grand- 
mother makes frequent mention in her diary of news from her 
friend — for instance, on the i/tn February 1803 that the 
Vicomtesse gave her tidings of an expected happy event — but 
the originals are missing. Whether lost or destroyed by some 
accident who shall say after the lapse of nearly a hundred 
years? 



CECILE'S DEATH. 29I 

On the loth of June 1803 occurs the following sad notice 
in Annaliebe's diary: 

Yesterday we received the terrible news from Vicomte de 
Trellissac that Cecile had given birth on the 26th Floreal to a 
daughter, but, two days afterwards, had passed quietly away. 

God help the poor husband to whom so short a span of 
happiness was granted — and me who am thus bereaved of my 
dearest friend! Ah, my presentiment was right — I felt I should 
never see her again. My grief is too deep for words. 

Anna Gottliebe. 

Thus ends the record of the devoted friendship that existed 
between this charming French lady and my great-grand- 
mother. 

Whether descendants of Cecile de Courtot still exist in 
France — whether the daughter alluded to in the diary sur- 
vived, or the family of " Courtot de Cissey," to which the well- 
known War Minister belonged, are descendants of the 
Baroness, I was not able to discover during my researches in 
France. 

What remains of most lives after a hundred years? — A 
handful of dust, a few lines of writing on faded crumbling 
paper and maybe a story or two handed down from father to 
son — nothing more. 

But if these traditions last further than into the second gen- 
eration, it is because the heroes or heroines of them were 
really exceptional natures. And that, I think, was the case 
with the two whose story I have laid before the reader in the 
foregoing pages 



INDEX. 



Abacourt, Due d', 79 

Aljbeville, Abbess of, 280 

Absak, Eugenie d', 79 

Aigle, M. de 1', 222, 249 

Aix, Archbishop of, 277 

Ajaccio, 170 

Alinenara, Hervas d', 243 

Alvensleben, von, family of, i 

Alvensleben, Anna Gottliebe von, 
early married life, 7, 8; personal 
appearance, 8; her garden, 12; pre- 
pares to receive Baroness Cecile de 
Courtot, 15-17; goes to Magdeburg, 
19; impressions of the Baroness, 20, 
21; daughter born to, 28-30; birth- 
day, 103, 104; goes to Helgoland, 
121; to Berlin, 128; presented at 
Court, 130; gift of guitar, 188,189: 
son bom to, 289; learns of death of 
Baroness, 291 

Alvensleben, Busso von, 29 

Alvensleben, Sophie Elizabeth Pliilip- 
pine Cecile von, 28, 29, 102, 133, 
136, 138, 155, 157, 188. 

Alvensleben, Werner HI. von, i, 2 

Alvensleben, Werner IV. von, 1-5, 90, 
95, 102, 132 

Alvensleben-Erxleben, Philipp von, 
90-93> 97-102, 194 

Alvonslowe, i 

Aniblas, Marquise d', 77, 78 

Andelard, Abbe d', 93 

Artois, Comte d', 286 

Aschaffenburg News, 10 

Assas, Marquise d', 204 

Aubignac, Tancred d', 14, 86, 87, 
285 

Augnier, Adele, 224 

Augnier, Eglee, 224 

Azyr, Vique d', 76 



Bacciochi, Prince, 198 

Balsamo, Giuseppe. See Cagliostro, 

Count 
Barras, Paul Jean Francois Nicolas. 

94, 118, 119. 122-125, 134, 139, 

146, 165, 170 
Barre, Mile, de la, 50 
Barry. Comtesse du, 78 
Barthelemy, Francois, Marquis de, 

122 
Bassewitz, Agnes, 99 
Bassewitz, Countess, 99 
Bassewitz, Luise, 99 
Bazancourt, Duchesse de, 78, 79 
Beauharnais, Alexandre, Vicomte de, 

225 
Beauharnais, Eugene de, 226, 232, 

234, 243 
Beauharnais, Mme. de. See ^ose- 

phine 
Beaumarchais, 277 
Benezeth, Conseiller d'etat, 273, 274 
Berliner Neueste Nachrichten, 10 
Bernadotte, General, 169, 232, 244 
Berthier, General, 176, 223, 234 
Bertin, Mile., the Queen's modiste, 56 
Bischofswerder, 34 
Bismarcks, The, 8 
Bismarck, Karl von, 35 
Bismarck-Schonhausen, Frau von, 9, 

35. 63 
Bocholtz, Countess, 153 
Bohemer and Bassange, the Coui-t 

jewellers, 108, 11 1 
Bonaparte, Carlo, father of Napoleon, 

his wife and children, 166 
Bonaparte, Caroline, 222. And see 

Murat 
Bonaparte, Elise, sister of Napoleon, 

198 

293 



294 



INDEX. 



Bonaparte, Joseph, i66 

Bonaparte, Laetitia, mother of Napo- 
leon, 232 

Bonaparte, Louis, 222, 236, 237 

Bonaparte, Lucian, 139, 167, 242, 243, 
268 

Bonaparte, Napoleon. See Napolconl. 

Bonaparte, Pauline, 244. And see 
Leclerc 

Borghese, Princess, 244. And see 
Pauline Bonaparte 

Borstels, The, 8 

Boucher, Franjois, the painter, 76 

Boucher, the poet, 76 

Bourbon, Marie Louise de, 45 

Bourbon-Penthievre, Stanislaus, Prince 
de, 45 

Brancas, Edm6e, Duchesse de, 88, 94, 
103, 117, 118, 120, 122, 127, 133, 
141, 146, 147, 173, 177-180, 182- 
184, 186, 187, 190, 191, 193, 199, 
200, 202, 205, 213, 214, 218, 221, 
224, 226, 227, 229, 236, 239-241, 
246, 248, 249, 254, 266, 273, 276, 
282, 284, 288 

Branchi, the real-estate agent, 240 

Branchue, Mme. de, 78 

Branconi, Maria Antonia von Pessima, 

150 
Brandenburg, Count and Countess, 97 
Brandenburg, Ludwig, Margrave of, i 
Br6teuil, M. de, 115, 116 
Br6ze, Due de, 50 
Briest, Herr von, (Uncle Briest,)8, 9, 

16, 17, 28, 62, 95, 104, 121, 152, 

157, 245, 246, 272 
Brissac, Due de, 79 
Broglio, Maurice, Prince de, 93 
Brumaire, The 18th, 139 
Brunswick, Duke of, 4, 150 

Cagliostro, Count, 107, 108, iii, 112, 

115, 116, 150 
Cambaceres, the Consul, 140 
Campan, Mme. de, 223, 231, 232, 

274 
Campis, Mme. de, 214 
Caprara, Cardinal, 237 
Casaux, Mme. de, 227 
Champanetz, Marquise de, 218 
Chappuis, Mile, de, 93 
Chappuis de la Combay, M. de, 93 
Chateauneuf, Mme. de, 78 
Chenier, Andre Marie de, the poet, 76 



Christine, Queen of Spain, 234 
Clary, Desiree, 167, 169, 170 
Clermont, Bishop of, 94, 169 
Condorcet, imprisoned in the Temple, 

76 
Constant, Napoleon's valet, 140, 170, 

243. 265 
Contat, the actress, 56 
Coulaincourt, Marquis de, 209, 21 1, 

213, 214, 223 
Courtot, Camille de, 88, 136, 209 
Courtot, Cecile, Baroness de, at Roer- 
monde, 13, 14; received by Frau 
von Alvensleben, 19; appearance, 
20, 21; illness, 22-25; state of 
mind, 26, 27; nurses Frau von 
Alvensleben, 28, 30; insists on pay- 
ing board, 30; wishes to sell jewels, 
31; refuses Col. von Rauchhaupt, 
38-42 ; home and parents, 43 ; ladj^- 
in-waiting to the Princess de Lam- 
balle, 44-47 ; in Paris, ' ' dame de la 
reine," 50 ; protects the Queen from 
mob at Versailles, 59; journey to 
Paris, 59; betrothed to Hector de 
Trellissac, 61; to London, 64; death 
of father and mother, 68, 69; re- 
turns to France, 69; takes refuge in 
the Temple, 70; transferred to La 
Force, 71; to the Temple, 71; sees 
the head of Princess Lamballe borne 
past window, 72 ; illness, 75; 
imprisonment, description of life in 
the Temple, 76-79; taken from 
prison, 79 ; the journey in the cart, 
81; before the tribunal, condemned, 
82 ; in the death-cart, 83 ; rescued 
by Hector de Trellissac, 84-86; 
escapes to Roermonde, 86, 87; life 
with the Alvenslebens, 90; sale of 
her jewels, 90, 92, 95 ; sympathy 
from Queen of Prussia, lOl ; her 
fire-screen, 104; accoimt of affair 
of the Queen's necklace, 105-117; 
goes to Helgoland, 121; to Berlin, 
128; on Louis XVL and Marie 
Antoinette, 135 ; studies Latin, 136- 
138; seeks to regain estates, 136; 
leaves Kalbe, 147, 148; at marriage 
of Princess of Hesse, 150-155; in 
Strasburg, 158-162; in Zabern, 163, 
164; in Metz, 165-168; in Chalons, 
169; in Paris, 172; on prices and 
life in Paris, 173, 174; at the 



INDEX. 



295 



theatre, 175, 176; removes to the 
Pahiis Brancas, 177; drives about 
Paris, 180-183; *-o her mother's 
grave, 183, 184; visits the Temple 
and La Force, 186, 187 ; at re- 
ception of Marquise de Montesson, 
190-192; impressions of Mme. de 
Stael and of Marquis Luchesini, 
193-195 ; at the parade, impressions 
of Bonaparte, 199-201 ; at Long- 
champs, 201 ; anecdotes of Talley- 
rand, 203-205 ; interview with 
Talleyrand, 205-211 ; her costume, 
213, 214; on the carnival, 217; on 
Germans in Paris, 218; on French 
literature, 218; on Garnerin's 
balloon, 219; her day with Jose- 
phine at Malmaison, 221-243; o^i 
life in Paris, 246-250; audience 
with Napoleon, 252-262; recognises 
in Napoleon the schoolboy who had 
saved her life and whom she had 
crowned with laurel, 256-259; her 
property restored by Napoleon, 260 ; 
journey to the Vendee, 270-273; sec- 
ond audience with Napoleon, 273- 
276; at Notre Dame, on re-establish- 
ment of Church, 276-278; meets 
again Hector de Trellissac, 281-283 ', 
her marriage with him, 289 ; her 
death two days after loirth of a 
daughter, 291 
Cumberland, Duke of, 103, 267 

Dadigne, Sieur de, 141 
Dampmartin, Colonel de, 93 
Dancing, 247 
Dember, domain of, I 
Denis, Baroness, 93 
Denon, Director of the Mint, 215, 216 
Despreaux, milliner to Josephine, 179 
Despreaux and Leroi, their Magazin 

de Modes, 213 
Diamond Necklace, Affair of the, 57, 

105-117 
Diderot, Denis, 44, 167 
Dino, Duke of, 212 
Donhoff, Countess Sophie, 96, 97 
Duchesnois, Mile., the actress, 268 
Ducos, the Consul, 139 / 

Dugazon, Mme., 175 
Duguesclin, the " mystificateur, " 280 
Dumouriez, General, 4, il 
Duplan, the hairdresser, 214 



Duroc, General, 236, 240, 243 

Epliraim, Court jeweller, 92 
Estaing, Mile, d', 50 
Eugenie, 234 

Fashions, 126, 151, 152, 197, 198,202, 

214, 247, 249, 250, 269 
Floquet, Commandant, 70 
Florian, the poet, 76 
Floym, Count, 95 
Fontanges, Marquise de, 75 
Fontenay, Mme. de, 246 
Fouche, Minister of Police, 232, 268 
Frascati's, 249 
Fructidor, The i8th, 122 
Frederick the Great, 95, 96 
Frederick William II. , 2, 92, 93, 95, 

96, 121 
Frederick William III., 87, 97, 128- 

132, 135 

Garnerin, his balloon, 219 

Genevais, Chateau, 46 

Gerard, his portrait of Josephine, 227 

Germon, Mme., Josephine's dress- 
maker, 213 

Gervais, Mme., nurse of Cecile de 
Courtot, 19, 68, 69. And see Ma- 
dcleinc 

Girardin, his conversation with Na- 
poleon, 145 

Gleim, the poet, 8, 29 

Grant, Mme., 134, 192, 205. And 
see ]]hjie. Talley7-and 

Guiche, Due de, 145 

Guiche, ]\Ime. de, 215 

Hamelin, Mme., 178, 224, 231, 232, 

241 
Harnish, the jeweller, 95 
Haugwitz. his influence on Prussia, 

198 
Hauteville, Laura d', 79 
Hesse, Princess of, her marriage, 147, 

.150-155 
Hippolite, servant of Princess de Lam- 

balle, 69 
Hoche, General, 165, 285 
Holland, Lord, 267 
Hortense (Eugenie Hortense de Beau- 

harnais), 178, 195, 222, 223, 231, 

235-237, 238, 240, 243 
Humboldt, Wilhelm von, 131 



296 



INDEX. 



Ingenheim, Count, 103 
"Iphigenia in Tauris," 247 
Isabey, the painter, 231, 232 
Isensclmibbe, domain of, i 

Josephine (Marie Jos^phe Rose Tascher 
de la Pagerie), 123, 142, 145, 147, 
165, 166, 170, 179, 192, 193, 195, 
209, 210, 213-215, 221-243, 246, 
263-265, 273 

Jourdan, General, 32, 33 

Junot, Mme., 224 

Kalbe, family seat of the Alvenslebens, 

I, 2, 5, 6 
Kalitschef, Prince, 173 
Kemble, the actor, 267 
Klotze, domain of, i 
Kockeritz, Adjutant-General von, 128, 

129, 131, 132, 154, 194 
Kroecher, Frau von (Aunt Kroecher), 

8, 28, 62, 104, 151, 156, 157, 202, 

245, 246 
Kroechers, von. The, i, 8 
Kurland and Sagan, Princess of, 212 

Lafayette, 55, 60 

Lafitte, M. de, 79 

La Force, prison of, 71, 186, 187 

Lamarque, Comte de, 60 

Lamballe, Marie Therese Louise de 
Savoie-Carignan, Princesse de, 13, 
44-47. 49, 55. 57, 59, 63, 64, 68- 
73, loi, 104, 106, 109, 130, 132, 

155, 275 

Lambesc, Prince, 64 

Lamotte-Valois, the adventuress, 107, 
108, 110, III, 114, 116 

Langenn, Herr von, loi 

Lannes, Mme., 201 

La Saque, Mme., 13, 14 

Laurier, Baron Leon, 124 

Lauriston, Mile, de, 224 

Laval, Mile, de, 50, 109 

Lavallade, Desir6e de, 79 

Lebrun, the Consul, 140 

Leclerc, General, 175, 176, 240, 244 

Leclerc, Pauline, 240. And see Pau- 
line Bojtaparte 

Lenormand, the fortune-teller, 265 

Leonard, the Queen's hairdresser, 56 

Leroy, milliner to Josephine, 179 

Liancourt, Due de, 280 

Liancourt, Duchesse de, 70 



Liancourt, Mile, de, 50 

Lichtenau, Countess, 92, 97, 98, 126 

Log, Anna Gottliebe von, 3, 4, 5. And 
see Alvensleben 

Loe, Johann Moritz von, 3, 5 

Lombard, his influence on Prussia, 198 

Londonderry, Bishop of, 126 

Longchamps, 201 

Louis XIV., 54 

Louis XV., 54 

Louis XVL, 54, 55, 63, 72, 75, 107, 
III, 114-116, 135 

Louis XVIL, 51, 183 

Louis XVIII., 141, 142, 210, 251 

Louis Joseph, Dauphin, 51, 57 

Louis Philippe, 45, note 

Louvre, The, 267 

Lucai, Eglee de, 224, 225 

Luchesini, Marquis, 194, 195, 198, 212 

Liideritz family, 8 

Liideritz, Friedrich von, 29 

Ludwig, Prince, 100, 103 

Luise, Queen (wife of Frederick Wil- 
liam IIL), 130-132, 135, 151, 231. 
And see Mecklenburg- Strelitz 

Luys, Mme. de, 124 

Madeleine, nurse of Cecile de Courtot, 

183, 184. And see Gervais 
Magnier, of the Mint, 215 
Maillard, the Revolutionist, 58, 82 
Mainz, 159 

Malmaison, 221, 222, 234, 241 
Malsburg, Baroness von der, 154 
Mara, Mme., the singer, 93, 94, 267 
Marat, Jean Paul, 125 
Marengo, 140 
Maria Theresa, 107 
Marie Antoinette, Josephe Jeanne, 

48-60, 63-72, 75, 76, 106-117, 135, 

274 
Marie Louise, of Austria, 265 
Marie Therese, Princess, 51 
Mark, Count von der, 93 
Mark, Countess von der, 102, 103 
Marly-le-Roi, 204 
Massenbach, General von, 34 
Masson, Herr, loi 
Matuscka, Count, 10 1 
Mecklenburg - Strelitz, Friederike, 

Princess of, 100, 103 
Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Luise of, 87, 97, 

98. And see Luise, Queen 
M6hul, Etienne Henri, 266 



INDEX. 



297 



Meiningen, Duke of, 152 

Mercier, Abb6 de, 78 

Miakowski, Herr von, 102 

Mirabeau, 60, 133 

MoUendorf, General von, 32, 33 

Moltke, Fraulein von, 98 

Montarsier, Mme., 165 

Montasin, Demoiselle, 56 

Mont Courtot, 264, 270-273, 289, 290 

Montespan, Mme. de, 45 

Montesquieu, Comtesse, 280 

Montesson, Marquise de, 94, 124, 126, 
141, 146, 190-193. 19s. 258 

Montgolfier, his offer to supply ma- 
chinery for Versailles, 204 

Moreau, General, 140 

Mortemar, Clothilde de, 73, 75, 80 

Miiller, Deacon, 10 

Murat, Caroline, 231, 237-239. And 
see Caroline Bonaparte 

Murat, General, 139, 222, 238-240, 
244 

Murray, Eliza, 223 

Napoleon I. (NapoUon Bonaparte), 
119, 120; on the i8th Fructidor, 
122; returns from Italy, 123; anec- 
dotes of school and early military 
life, 124, 125; his order of the day 
to the Army of Italy, 125, 126; in 
Egypt, 134; return, 138; in Paris, 
First Consul, 139; his decrees, his 
victories, 140 ; attitude toward the 
Bourbons, 141, 142; his advances 
toward the old nobility, 143; re- 
establishes the Church, 144; on 
music in the Tuileries chapel, 145 ; 
his acquaintance with Josephine, 
165, 166; his parents, family, and 
home in Corsica, i66; story of his 
refusal by Desiree Clary, 167, 170; 
portrait by Greuze, 177, 178; his 
promise to the employes at St. 
Quentin, 179; his remark to Mme. 
Talleyrand, 192; his manner, 192, 
193; at the opera, 195; attempt on 
his life, 195, 196; his words to the 
singers, 196; and to Josephine, 196; 
at St. Cloud. 197; at the parade, 
199-201 ; dislike of Talleyrand, 205 ; 
Talleyrand's remarks on, 210; por- 
trait by David, 215, 217; anecdote 
of, at the Mint, 215-217; attempt 
to poison, 223; Josephine's anxiety 



for, 228; anecdote of, in the Italian 
wars, 23 1; remarks on the Ven- 
d6ans, 232, 233; affected by sound 
of bells, 241, 242; intimacy with 
Talma, 248; his audiences, 253; 
description of, 254; interview with 
Cecile de Courtot, 254-262; recog- 
nizes in her the girl whose life he 
had saved and who had crowned 
him with laurel at school in Brienne, 
256-259; his fatalism, 259, 260, 
265, 288; his confidences, 261; his 
mysticism made use of by Jose- 
phine, 263 ; second audience to Ce- 
cile de Courtot, 273-276; at Notre 
Dame, on re-establishment of 
Church, 277, 278; holds review at 
Tuileries, 279; conversations with 
Hector de Trellissac, 287 

Napoleon III., 234, 243 

Navaillac, Marquise de, 93-95, loi, 
118, 129 

Nertz, Pastor, 10, 16, 188, 245 

Neufville, Comte de, 141 

Nikolai, Doctor, 121 

Noailles, Adelaide de, 50, 53, 59, 109 

Noailles, Mme. de, 50, 279, 280 

Noailles, Victor de, 280, 283 

Notre Dame, 276-278 

Oliva, the courtesan, iro, 112 

Orleans, Louis, Due d', 88 

Orleans, Louis Philippe Joseph, Due 

d', (Philippe ^galit^,) 45. 57, 59. 

70, 112 
Orleans, Pierre Philippe d', 46, note 
Overdiek, estate of, 3, 5 

Paul, the Czarewitch, loi 

Penthievre, Due de, 46, note 

Penthievre, Jean Marie de Bourbon, 
Due de, 45, 73 

Permon, Charles, 256 

Permon, Laure, 256 

"PhMre," 268 

Philippe Egalite, 206. And see Or- 
leans 

Pichegru, Charles, 122 

Pitt, William, 64 

Place de Gr^ve, 181 

Place de la Concorde, 180 

Place de la Revolution, 181 

Place des Victoires, 180 

Place Royale, 180 



298 



INDEX. 



Place Vendome, 181 

Poix, Prince de, 192, 205, 222, 238 

239, 246, 254, 268, 280 
Pozzo di Borgo, 166, 170 
Pralins, Anne de, 43 

Rauchhaupt, Albrecht Vollrath von, 

12, 15, 18, 32-42, 87, 96 
Recamier, Mme., 144, note, 170, 267 
Remusat, M. de, 253, 276 
Remusat, Mnie. de, 224, 265 
Retrazet, estate of, 264 
Reventlow, Countess, 99 
Rietz, Frau von, 93, 97 
Robespierre, Maximilian, 118, 182, 

184, 185, 206 
Roches Baritaud, Claude de Beau- 

harnais, Comte des, 225 
Roermonde, 13 
Rohan, Cardinal, 106-108, 110-116, 

164 
Rohan Guemenee, Chateau of, 163, 

164 
Roucher, M. de, 79 
Rousseau, 44, 55, 167, 267 
Roustan, Bonaparte's Mameluke, 200 

Sabatier, Mme. de, 280 
Sachsen-Teschen, Marie-Christine of, 

112-117 
Sacuval, the actress, 56 
St. Cloud, 273 
Saint-Paterne, Chevalier, 93 
Saint-Ygnon, Chevalier, 93 
Saldern, Mme. von, loi 
Salm-Kyrburg, Prince of, 225 
Saque, Alme. la, 87 
Savary, Mme., 214, 224 
Saxe, Chevalier de, 126 
Saxe, Marechal de, 159 
Schilden, Fritz von, 98 
Schlippenbach, Albert, loi 
Schlippenbach, Countess, loi 
Schlotheim, Mme., 150, 152, 153, 155 
Schreiber, his " guillotine ambulante," 

159, 160 
Schulenburg, Countess, 99-101 
S6gur, Vicomte de, 143 
Sieyes, the Consul, 139, 144 
Solms-Braunfels, Prince, 103 
Spiegel, Frau von, 150 
Stael-Holstein, Baron de, 194 
Stael, Mme. de, 87, 134, 193, 194 



Stainville, Marquis de, 52 
Stolberg-Stolberg, Count, lOl, 102 
Strasburg, 158-162 
Strelitz, Princess of, lOO 

Talhuet, Adele de, 224,^225, 232, 233 

273 
Talhuet, Mme. de, 232, 233 
Tallien, Mme., 165, 224, 250 
Talleyrand, Edmond de, 212 
Talleyrand, Mme., 210, 211. And 

see Mine. Grant 
Talleyrand-Perigord, Charles Maurice 

de, 133, 134. 179, 192, 197, 203- 

212, 253, 262, 275 
Talma, Fran5ois Joseph, the trage- 
dian, 217, 247, 248, 250, 251 
Temple, The, 70, 71, 76-79, 183, 186, 

187 
Theatre Feydeau, 175 
Theatre Fran^ais, 268 
Theatre Royal, 247 
Therese, Princess, 280 
Thierry, M., 102 
Thierry, the hatter, 202 
ToUendal, Lady, 280 
Torget, the advocate, 115, n6 
Toulouse, Comte de, 45 
Tourzel, Mme. de, 51 
Trellissac, Chateau, 272, 273 
Trellissac, Hector, Vicomte de, 14, 

43, 44, 61, 64, 84-86, 187, 208, 

275, 279, 281-291 
Trenk, Baron, 225 
Tuileries, 252, 253 

Valencay, Duke of, 212 

Valette, Mme. de, 226 

Varennes, Marquis de, 78 

Vendee, 270-274 

Viereck, Fraulein von, 98 

Vinci, the actress, 267 

Visconti, Mme., 268 

Volnay, M. de, 211 

Voltaire, 44, 267 

Voss, Frau von, 98-100, 129-231 

Vultejus, Herr, 136, 167, 230, 250 

Willoun, Doctor, 267 
WoUner, the singer, 97 

Zabern, 163, 164 



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